Home
by Queequg471
Summary: Life changes every day. And some of those changes are more devastating than others. You either accept these changes, or you fight them like hell. The lives of our favorite surgeons in 2013. MerDer, Huntina, McSexie,Lexzie. FORMERLY UNDER FAITHTIMFAN16
1. Meredith and Derek

**A/N: This is a new story that's been in my head for a lloooonnnngg time (some of you might recognize the situation from Reba), and I finally decided to write it down. It'll be about the lives five years into the future of our favourite surgeons, each chapter being a new character and pairing. So enjoy and review! This is my first Grey's Anatomy fanfiction, usually I write for X-Files or Law and Order: SVU. **

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

The OR lights were shining brightly on Meredith Grey as she worked deftly on her patient, and for a second she wished they weren't quite so bright. It was a bit difficult to see. Meredith shook those thoughts out of her head as she made careful incisions onto her patient's forehead, and removed his skull cap.

Meredith prided herself nowadays on her ability to finish a surgery, to save a life, without the help of her husband or her mentor, but she still got nervous whenever she entered the OR, and it didn't help that this patient was an 11-year-old boy. Meredith took a deep breath to calm her nerves and placed the ten-blade back at the base of the child's skull.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

The locker room for the seventh-year residents was almost empty by the time Meredith met up with her friends at the end of the day. Meredith flopped down on a bench in exhaustion, but the other residents barely nodded. Meredith hadn't been looking for sympathy anyway, but the irritation of a long day was beginning to catch up with her, and a dark scowl formed on her face.

"Surgery went fine, thanks for asking," she quipped sarcastically.

Cristina Yang shrugged. "Figured if it hadn't, you'd have been a whole lot more pissed off. And anyway, why should I feel sorry for you when you got the good surgery today?"

Despite herself, Meredith felt a smile play on her lips. "Any bloody victims come into trauma today?"

Izzie Stevens looked up, excitement written all over her face.

"There was a bad car accident on the freeway today, so this couple was brought into the pit. The wife was pregnant, but being trapped caused loss of blood, she was barely alive when we got her here. I'm doing her c-section in a half hour, we're just waiting until she's more stable."

Meredith groaned playfully. So like Izzie to be so excited about a surgery that included babies. She was always the softest of their group, it was only fitting she had gone into pediatric general surgery, whereas her fiancé Alex Karev, who was going into neonatal surgery. The group had been surprised, to say the least, but Alex loved what he did.

"I might have stayed for that surgery!"Meredith complained.

Alex snorted. "Yeah, right. McDreamy and the McBaby are back home, we all know you spent the day counting the hours until you got to go home."

Meredith shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. Alex was right, she had been counting the hours, but her baby needed her! Not that she didn't trust Derek, she did, but little girls needed their mothers. Meredith couldn't believe herself that she was more dedicated to her family than her career, but over the years she had slowly come to accept that she was going to live a different life than her mother, and she was okay with that. Still, sometimes her mother's legacy haunted and intimidated her, almost making her feel like she was failing as a doctor because she had other thing she cared about more.

"Oh, go!" George O'Malley prodded.

Meredith grinned and jumped up. Cristina fell into step with her as she left the hospital to go to her car.

"So," Meredith said. "Owen hear back from the Army?"

Cristina shook her head, a nervous look clouding her features.

"Not yet."

"Don't worry, Cris. You know he wouldn't do anything without talking to you first."

Cristina snorted in disbelief.

Smiling slightly, Meredith amended "Well, he'd at least talk to you before he acted on that decision."

Cristina nodded thoughtfully. Owen rejoining the army had always worried her, she'd grown to depend so much on his commanding presence being there, but at her core, she knew he was a soldier and she couldn't forbid him from going to do his job. His loyalty was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

Shaking her head, she forced those thoughts from her head.

"So how's the McBaby?"

A smile broke over Meredith's face as it always did when she talked about her baby.

"Fabulous. She can sit up, she can almost hold the bottle by herself, and she's sleeping through the whole night, which is good for –"

"Mer, I see the baby like every day, remember? I know what she's doing."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"I was trying to think about something besides Owen and the army, so my brain must have gone into a haze where I forgot that you can talk about that kid into eternity." Cristina snipped sarcastically.

Meredith shot a playful glare at her best friend.

"Like you don't do it!" Cristina didn't answer, and Meredith fell silent briefly.

"Apparently, Derek thinks that I'm too obsessive too."

"Finally, McDreamy saying something halfway sane." Cristina muttered under her breath.

Meredith glared. "He says I can't keep running up every time the baby makes a peep. He thinks when she wakes up, we should just leave her there to cry herself back to sleep. Like, just let her sit there and cry!"

Cristina sighed. "Mer, you're a doctor. You know that by six months, babies need how to learn how to soothe themselves and fall back to sleep. McDreamy is actually right. Guess there's a first time for everything."

"It's not a peep, Cris, it's a cry for help! She just wants her mommy."

"Jesus, Mer! You _are_ obsessive." Cristina said wearily. Why did it _always _fall to her to talk Meredith out of her panic?

"Look, you know that the baby won't remember it, you know that it's the best thing for all of you, and you know that it doesn't hurt her." Cristina scrutinized her friend more carefully. "Unless it's not the crying thing that's the real problem."

Cristina could tell she'd hit a nerve when she saw Meredith's face, but they had come to their cars, and Meredith swung into the driver's seat, ending the conversation.

"See you tomorrow, Cristina." Meredith called.

"Yeah," Cristina shrugged, watching Meredith's car pull out of the driveway. She'd leave this one to McDreamy. God knows, she had enough to deal with.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

_Shepard Home_

_10:30 PM_

"I'm a surgeon, I'm a _surgeon_! I'm strong, I can handle this!" Meredith reminded herself quietly as she sat in the hall, outside the room that smelled of baby powder, the room she had spent more hours in then she could count, the room where her six-month-old baby daughter lay crying while she sat helplessly on the floor, crying just as hard.

Soft footsteps sounded, and Meredith felt someone sit next to her and put their arm around her shoulders. She leaned into Derek's shoulder, tears still pouring down her cheeks. Her husband tipped her chin up and looked at her steadily.

"This isn't just about the crying thing, is it?" He asked gently.

Meredith bit down a sob and shook her head.

"I'm not here, Derek. I'm not here for her, and she's just a baby, and I'm her _mother_! I should be here with her during the day, _I_ should be the one feeding her, burping her, changing her, putting her down, and everything else. I shouldn't be at the hospital day in and day out, and I shouldn't be acting like...."

Meredith broke off, focusing her attention on the carpet, threading it between her fingers.

"Like your mother?" Derek finished.

Meredith nodded, another wail coming from their daughter's room making her cry harder.

"Mer, you _are not_ like your mother. This affecting you like it does tells me that. You love that baby more than anything. Your mother put her career first, but you're clearly putting the baby first, and that means that despite all your deepest worries, you are _nothing_ like your mother. But if you want to cut down on your time at the hospital, I'm sure the chief would completely understand."

Meredith nodded, giving her husband a watery smile.

"But for now, Mer, what do you want to do?"

Meredith studied the carpet again, twisting it in her fingers, listening to the wails from the door. When she spoke again, it was in such a light whisper, Derek had to strain to hear her.

"I want to go pick up my baby."

Derek nodded with a smile. Meredith smiled back and bolted into their daughter's room. She picked up the warm bundle and carried her over to a rocking chair.

"It's okay, Miranda, mommy's here. Shhhhh, shhhh baby, I'm here." Meredith held her daughter close to her, nose in the baby's soft hair, until Miranda's cries calmed and she fell asleep with her head on her mother's chest.

Meredith laid her head on top of her daughter's and carried her gently back to her crib. She laid the now-sleeping baby down, and ran her fingers over the letters above the crib that spelled out her daughter's name. When the baby was born, Bailey had come to see her. Watching her mentor fuss over her daughter, Meredith was hit by a wave of gratitude for all Bailey had done for her, and suddenly, there was no better name for her daughter then Miranda.

"Mommy's gonna be here, Miranda."Meredith whispered. "Mommy's gonna be here for you, no matter what."

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

**A/N: And there's Meredith and Derek's chapter. Other pairings will be: Mark/Lexie, Cristina/Owen, and Alex/Izzie. Sadie doesn't exist in this story. So read, enjoy, and please review!**


	2. Cristina and Owen

**A/N: Wow! I got such an amazing response on the last chapter that I wrote another at the first chance I got. Thanks so much for all the amazing reviews, please keep them coming, they really make my day! Here's your Cristina/Owen chapter. Even as a new couple I love them so much more then Cristina/Burke, Hunt was so adorable in The Midnight Hour when he was stammering like that!**

**Warning: This chapter has some bad language in it, so don't read it if you are offended by that type of thing. **

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYS

No car was needed for Cristina to get back to the apartment she shared with her husband, but she almost wished there was, just to get a little warmth against the cold November wind. She pulled her coat tighter against her, taking in its limited warmth, as she hurried across the street, breath fogging in the air. She took the stairs two at a time but paused in front of her door to glance at her watch. Nine o'clock. She'd have to be quiet. Cristina eased the door open and crept in, closing it behind her just as quietly.

Nothing. No noise, no cries, nothing.

Cristina tiptoed through the apartment, creeping into the doorway of a room that was supposed to be dark, but instead held a small Pooh Bear nightlight on and, to her surprise, quiet voices. She looked closer and made out a flash of red hair and two figures snuggled into a chair, one reading, quietly but animatedly, to the other. A proud smile broke out on her face as she continued to listen to her husband, the "big tough army guy", as she often jokingly called him, read tenderly to their almost two-year-old son, Timothy.

"...goodnight, comb. And goodnight brush. Goodnight, nobody. Goodnight mush. And goodnight to the old lady, whispering '_hush!_'"

Cristina heard their son sigh softly, a sure sign that he was almost asleep. Still, Owen kept reading, until he finally finished with,

"...goodnight, noises everywhere!"

Cristina heard the soft snores that indicated their son was sleeping soundly. Despite herself, a small frown creased the corners of her eyes. Owen usually read to Timothy until he had just fallen asleep, and then put him right into his crib. The couple had learned that otherwise, they ran the risk of the little boy waking up and demanding Daddy tell another story.

Instead, tonight, Owen cuddled their tiny son as close to him as he could get, rocking him gently, his nose buried in the brown hair, both pairs of eyes closed. Owen rocked the little boy back and forth for long minutes, before reluctantly picking him up and putting him down in his crib, covering him up with the utmost tenderness. He brushed his lips over Timothy's head, whispering a soft "I love you."

Owen turned towards the door and noticed Cristina for the first time. He smiled gently and strode for her. Cristina smiled back, then rebuked herself mentally for getting so invested in the tender moment.

They closed their son's door and walked into their room. Owen kissed Cristina gently, then pulled her to him and held her.

He was scaring her. Owen was a loving husband, sure, but this uncharacteristic gentleness from him was worrying her. A nagging voice in the back of her mind that said it could be...no! She wouldn't, couldn't think about that. She broke free of him, studying the floor as she sat on their bed. The tension was palatable between the two as they faced each other. Owen cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to rethink it and closed it again.

Cristina idly traced patterns on the floor with her shoe, but true to their individual stubborn nature, they both stayed silent, waiting for the other to speak. When the tension grew too much for Cristina, she finally spoke in a soft whisper.

"So I guess they called." Not a question. A statement.

Owen nodded hesitantly.

Silence ensued once more.

"And?" Monosyllabic sentences. That would be how they would get through this conversation. Painlessly.

"They...they want me back."

A short nod.

"And are you...are you going to go?"

Another nod, this time from Owen.

Cristina felt rage rising in the back of her throat. How could he decide, just like that? With just a nod, as if this was nothing more important than deciding on what to have for dinner? The rage bubbled up and pushed its way out of her in an angry stream of words.

"Jesus! How could you just fucking _decide_ something like this?! Like it's nothing, like it couldn't spell your fucking _death_? Jesus Christ, Owen, didn't you even _think_ about..."

Owen slammed his hand down angrily on a table, stopping Cristina midsentence.

"You think I didn't think about that?" he hissed. "You think I didn't think I could never come back to my family? I know that, Cristina, I fucking_ know that_!"

Cristina inhaled sharply at the sudden movement and harsh words, but Owen barely seemed to notice.

"But I'm a goddamned _soldier_! And I know for fucking sure that a hell of a lot more men definitely won't come home to their families if I don't go! That's why I'm going, Cristina, I'm going for them, I'm going for all of those families! I'm going so their wives won't have to get the call they all dread, the call that says their husband died being blown to bits!"

"And do you even fucking care if _I _get that call?" Cristina spat. "Do you think it'll make it better for me if I know that you left to save other husbands if _my_ fucking husband is dead? Do you honestly think I'll care?"

Owen stared with mute shock in his blue eyes at Cristina's words. Cristina tried to stand firmly under his stare, but against her will, she felt tears beginning to curl down her cheeks. She wiped them away with an angry sweep of her hand, but more fell.

"Dammit!" Cristina cursed under her breath. Looking down, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her. The fight falling out of her, she rested her head on Owen's shoulder. They stood that way for a long time, until Cristina finally whispered,

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't do this. And that's not a bad thing. So I think you should go."

Owen pulled back and looked at her steadily.

"Really?"

Cristina nodded, still teary against her will. Owen smiled at her for a long moment and pulled her back against her, and the silence resumed, but a comfortable silence this time.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYS

**A/N: Was that OK for the Cristina/Owen chapter? I'm sorry if they're a little out of character, but I don't really know Owen well enough to write for his character yet. So read, enjoy, and keep up the amazing reviews!**

**And for anyone wondering, the book that Owen was reading to Timothy was called "Goodnight, Moon." If you don't know it already, check it out, it's a great children's book, it used to be one of my favourites when I was a kid and now I read it to the kids I look after. **


	3. Mark and Lexie

**A/N: Again, wow! You guys are amazing in your reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I've had to write lots of short stories for school, as well as my other fanfics, so my creative energy was kind of burned out for awhile. But seriously (yes, I have been infected with the seriously bug) 1794 hits, 20 reviews, 10 favourite stories, and 21 alerts? You guys are great! If you feel like taking a few minutes out of your day to make me very happy and are a fan of The X-Files and/or Law and Order: SVU, feel free to read and review my other stories.**

**Alright, on with the show! Here's your Mark/Lexie chapter, Alex/Izzie chapter is coming. VillageVoice, I'll probably mention Callica, but I'm not sure they'll have a chapter. I loved Callie/Erica, but I don't generally write for them. Still, you never know, I'll see when I get done the other chapters. I loved your story, by the way! I'm also always open to any suggestions for storylines or pairings. **

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYS

Manwhore. Dirty Mistress. Adulterer. Traitor. Ex-Best Friend. Mark Sloan shook his head, but the names, the ugly labels he'd accumulated over the years, stuck firmly. Parts of his past Mark wished fervently that he could erase, but then perhaps he wouldn't be where he was now, and even he had to admit, where he was definitely wasn't bad. With that in mind, a smile materialized on Mark's face, a smile that was usually reserved for his usual manwhoring lifestyle.

_No,_ Mark reminded himself, _a smile that used to be reserved for manwhoring_.

"Big Sloan," Mark heard someone say from behind him, a sudden voice that succeeded in making him jump three feet in the air. Mark whirled around and faced the now-laughing face of Derek Shepherd.

"Not funny, man. Not funny," Mark breathed. Derek chuckled.

"Big tough plastic surgeon jumps three feet in the air. You looked kind of like a girl there, Mark," Derek teased.

Mark glared at his best friend. He and Derek had been through a lot in the past few years, and for a few months Mark even thought he would lose Derek forever. More than a best friend, Derek was the brother Mark had never had, and the idea of losing him made him feel more lost than he cared to admit. However, in the last year he and Derek had been getting back their friendship, back to it was before the whole thing with Addison, and Mark couldn't quite explain just how big of a burden that lifted off his shoulders.

Mark noticed Derek's expression change. He looked serious now, and worried.

"Did you hear Hunt's going back to Iraq?"

"What?" Mark gaped. Owen had been working with them for over three years now, and he had never shown any sign, to Mark at least, of wanting to rejoin the army. Then again, they weren't exactly best friends. Since he and Yang had gotten married, he and Derek had taken Owen out for drinks a few times, and they were friends, but certainly not as close as he and Derek were.

"Yeah, Mer told me," Derek replied. "Said he just got the call two days ago or something. Going back as an army surgeon."

"How's Yang with that?"

"Mer actually said she had told him he could go,"

Mark snorted. "When did we become slaves who wait for our wives' permission to do anything?"

Derek smiled and slapped Mark on the shoulder. "Welcome to the world of serious relationships, man. It sucks. You're gonna love it."

Mark grinned and fell into step beside his friend as they walked to their cars.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYS

The door closed easily behind Mark as he walked into his apartment, and almost immediately he felt a warm pair of arms wrap around his waist. He smiled broadly and turned to face his live-in girlfriend of almost two years. The diminutive woman stood excitedly on tiptoe, also smiling and pressed her lips eagerly to Mark's.

"Something tells me you got the solo surgery, Little Grey," he smiled against her lips.

Lexie Grey wiggled away with a laugh, a laugh that never failed to perk up Mark's day. That, he supposed, was the main reason he was so satisfied with his life. No matter how crappy a day he had, he didn't have to come home to a lonely hotel room or have a meaningless fling with some nurse anymore. Mark had never thought that this would be better than that, but three years ago – he still joked with Derek about planting the seed – he actually found himself gazing at Meredith and Derek with a feeling that was almost envy. Almost everyone had pointed out the irony that he had "hooked up" with his "brother's" wife's sister, but it had actually knitted their group closer, and Mark couldn't believe how good this relationship was.

Still, Owen's news lurked at the back of his mind, and it must have shown on his face, because Lexie took his face in both hands and gently inquired,

"What's wrong?"

Mark quickly moved to cover the look with a smile.  
"Nothing, Lex." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Want to celebrate the surgery?"

Lexie laughed briefly, but still looked steadily at Mark.

"Seriously, Mark, what's wrong?"

Mark sighed. "Hunt's going back to the army."

Lexie's mouth fell open. "Oh my god! What does Cristina think?"

Mark couldn't help the wry smile that leapt to his face as he recalled his earlier conversation with Derek.

"Apparently, Mer says that Yang told him he could go."

Lexie nodded. "And this makes you worried....why?"

"Doesn't. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Mark."

Mark looked down, shocked himself at the moisture gathering in his eyes. It was a moment before he lifted his head to look into his girlfriend's piercing eyes.

"He could....he could die, Lex. Just like that, Yang could be alone. 'Cause that's all it takes, Lexie. Just a second. Just a single second, and someone's......all alone."

Lexie nodded sympathetically. "And that's the problem? Not only Owen, but us too?"

Mark dropped his head back down. "We work around it all day. It's what we try to prevent, but sometimes....we can't. Sometimes, it just....happens."

"Mark, look at me," Lexie ordered. Mark slowly lifted his head, shocked at the role reversal. Usually he was the commanding one, and Lexie was the one more in touch with her sensitive side.

"I'm not going to deny it could happen, Mark. It could. It could happen at any minute. But if we focus on that, our life would be one giant knot of worry. We take advantage of what time we have, Mark. 'Live in the after' as Owen would say. Except in this case, it's really 'live in the now'," Lexie amended, a slight smile on her face at her usual scramble for words.

"So, _right now_, we're here. And we have each other. And right now, I love you and I'm not going anywhere."

A smile broke out on Mark's face, and he kissed Lexie soundly on the mouth.

"And _right now_ seems like a good time to celebrate that solo surgery, Dr. Little Grey."

Lexie grinned and kissed him back.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYS

**A/N#2: I'm sorry if that last part wasn't so good, it was 2:00 in the morning but I wanted to finish. So please, read and leave me lots of reviews! If I get as many reviews as I did on the last chapter, I promise I'll update sooner!**


	4. Alex and Izzie

**A/N: Again, wow! You guys are great in your reviews, please keep it up! And if you have a minute, check out my other stories and leave a review, I'd be very grateful.**

**Here's the Alex/Izzie chapter. I love them as a couple because I love the side of Alex that Izzie brings out, but they are ruining it with this Denny Ghost crap. Needless to say, that storyline does not exist in this story. I loved Denny as a character when he was alive, but the show is ruining his character for me now. **

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

"_Alex?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You want to go steady with me?"_

_A shrug. "If that's what you want. I mean, yeah, whatever."_

Alex Karev put his hand over his mouth in a half-smile, half-yawn. Even after eight years of being a doctor, the long hours left something to be desired.

"Dr. Karev?" a voice sang out. Alex's head shot up. Nurse Rebecca. He stifled a groan. The nurse had been working in the neonatal ICU for two months now and Alex was seriously contemplating firing her, after finding her to be completely incompetent in dealing with the preemies. She was far too rough in handling their tiny bodies, he always had to check the doses she gave the babies as she was prone to giving them too much, and to top it off, she flirted blatantly with him. Alex had exhausted every option in pushing her away, but as it turned out, Nurse Rebecca, or McFlirty, as Cristina had named her, was not so good at taking hints. She had only gotten this position because she had some good connections with the Chief.

Nurse Rebecca sauntered up to Alex and batted her eyelashes. "Anything you need, Dr. Karev?" she asked, leaning in as close as she could get.

Alex moved subtly away. "No, thanks," he replied shortly

"Are you sure?" she persisted, pouring on false sweetness in every syllable, to a degree that almost made Alex feel nauseous.

"No," Alex stated firmly, hoping that for once she would get the message and go away.

"Because I really don't mind – " she began, her hand trailing up and down his arm

"Nurse Rebecca, go home!" Alex barked, yanking his arm away.

A look of shock crossed her face for only a second, then it faded and the nurse turned away. Alex let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the babies.

Suddenly, though, he felt two arms spin him around. He caught a brief glimpse of Nurse Rebecca as she pulled his face down to her and kissed him firmly on the lips. Alex stood there for a moment, stunned into silence.

Finally, reality thrust itself on Alex and he wrenched himself away.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, but the nurse had already turned and fled the ICU. Alex shook his head in mute shock, but turned back to the babies. They didn't stop needing his care, he rationalized.

He made his way over to one incubator on the far wall, reaching in and taking the tiny hand of the smallest baby in the nursery. This baby had been born two months premature, and his lungs were underdeveloped, so Alex figured he'd have to spend at least two more weeks in here. Physically, Alex knew his chances of survival were good, but he was worried that his parents weren't bonding with him. They hadn't come to see him once since he was born two weeks ago, and had barely looked at him when he was born.

The baby fussed gently, and Alex kneeled down to whisper to him softly.

"I know, little guy. It gets lonely in here, I know. Don't you worry, no, don't you worry. We're gonna make sure you're taken care of. I know, it sucks to have parents who don't care. Yeah, I know..."

Alex was so engrossed in talking to the baby that he almost didn't hear the door open and a figure lean against the door, watching.

"Talking to a patient, Dr. Karev?"

Alex jumped three feet in air and whirled around to the doorway.

"Izzie," he breathed, expelling a sigh of relief.

Izzie laughed and strode up to Alex. He froze briefly, wondering if she had seen the kiss, but she wrapped her arms warmly around him, and beamed him a smile. Alex smiled back and they stood that way for a moment.

Finally, Izzie broke the embrace and informed him.

"Hunt's got two new traumas rolling into the pit; he says he could use our help."

"Us? Why?"

"Two children, both sets of parents killed in car accident, both requiring surgery."

Still confused, Alex frowned. "So why does he want me?"

Izzie grinned. "Weeelll, maybe it wasn't him so much as me. Thought you might like to scrub in with me on their surgeries, maybe take a little break from neonatal. Both little girls are going to need surgery."

Alex smiled ruefully. "And you want me because of my incredible skills with people, especially children?"

Izzie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout that broke Alex instantly. He growled playfully.

Izzie nodded and ran out the door. As soon as she was gone, Alex swept a nervous hand over his face.

Should he tell her about the kiss? Was it even worth telling?

Shaking his head, Alex resolved to decide later. The lives of two children were on the line, everything else would have to wait.

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

By the time Alex jogged into the pit, two stretchers were being rolled in, each containing a small form. Owen Hunt jogged beside the stretchers as they were wheeled into a trauma bay each. Alex jogged to the first stretcher with the smaller form, who he saw was a small girl, maybe seven years old, with pale skin, blond hair and big, scared brown eyes.

"Seven year old female, status post trauma, found in a car wreck among unidentified others, BP..."

The EMT rattled off her status, and the little girl's wide eyes shed terrified tears, before coming to rest on Alex. He couldn't tell what possessed him, but he found himself soothingly taking the child's hand and reaching up to stroke her hair, careful of her head wound.

"Hi, sweetie. It's alright, you're at a hospital. My name is Dr. Karev; I'm going to take care of you. Can you tell me your name?"

The child stared at him blankly, but the huge brown eyes spoke for her.

Alex looked at the EMT's.

"You didn't get her name?"

One shook his head. "She wouldn't say. We pushed as hard as we could, but she wouldn't say a word."

Alex nodded, shooting them a glare.

"Because she didn't understand what you were asking her. I don't think she speaks English."

Alex stroked the girl's hair soothingly again, then slipped away, but not before he heard the girl whimper.

He slipped into the next curtain, where the second girl laid, a child who looked maybe nine, with lightly browned skin and long black hair, as if she was from South America. Hunt was leaning over her, gently trying to get her name, but she stared at him with the same expression the other girl had. Hunt looked at Alex, stumped.

"Still hasn't said a word."

"Dr. Hunt, she doesn't understand what you're asking. I think she only speaks Spanish. She looks like she might be from Mexico or something."

Realization dawned on Hunt's face, but Alex had already slipped back through the curtain and took the first little girl's hand again. A look immediately jumped into her eyes that was almost relief. Alex frantically tried to remember any Spanish he could.

"Co...cómo te llamas?"1

"M...Ma...Marifer. Marifer Alvarez," came the tear choked response.

"Cuántos años tienes?"2

"S..si..siete."3

"De donde es usted?"4

"Mexico."

Alex nodded. He felt an odd sense of pride in himself, especially after seeing the trust shining in Marifer's eyes. He repeated the process with the other girl, and found the conversation went almost exactly the same. She said her name was Inés Vargas; she was nine years old and also came from Mexico. As soon as they established a baseline on the girls, they wheeled them into surgery for their head wounds. The children clung tightly to Alex's hand, and tears slipped down their cheeks as Alex reluctantly loosened his grips on their hands. Alex leaned down and whispered to them gently.

"Está bien, cariñae. Está bien."5

The girls reluctantly let go of his hands and allowed themselves to be wheeled into the OR while Alex went to scrub in.

As he entered the scrub room, he felt a warm hand wrap around his. He smiled at Izzie as she began to scrub.

Izzie looked at Alex lovingly and whispered right into his ear.

"_That_ is why I wanted you in on this case."

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: So review please! And anyone who speaks fluent Spanish, I'm sorry if I didn't get the dialogue exactly right, I'm really still learning it and I researched it as best I can. **

1 What's your name?

2 How old are you?

3 Seven

4 Where are you from?

5 It's alright, sweethearts. It's alright.


	5. Cristina and Owen 2

**A/N: First time I wrote a chapter in class! But we were watching a movie and I was beyond bored, so here's your next Owen/Cristina chapter. And on the subject of them, how cute was the scene with the vent? I was watching it with my mom, dad and my two sisters last night and they tried to talk and I'm like "No! There's no talking when Owen Hunt is on the screen! None!" Think I scared them a little bit lol. **

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

Cristina shut the door of the on-call room softly behind her, relieved to find it empty. She stumbled over to a bed, with barely enough energy to take her shoes off and tuck the thin blankets around her. Yet, no matter how exhausted every bone in her body was, she just couldn't fall asleep. Because even though her aching joints were killing her, the sharp pain of loneliness hurt more. A lot more.

Owen had left two weeks ago, although the memory was so fuzzy in Cristina's mind that it could have been two years. The army had sent a car to pick him up, so Cristina had taken the day off of work and pulled Timothy out of daycare. The day was a blur to Cristina. But she remembered how much she hated this, all of this. She hated the sympathetic looks everyone gave her in the halls. She hated the official marshals that would call, would tell her that they would do their best to bring him home safely, hated how everyone said he was serving his country, and hated, hated, _hated_ saying goodbye. Somehow, though, her mind was against her, because that was the only part of the day she could remember clearly. Owen had snuggled Timothy in his lap for his last goodbye. Inevitably, their tiny son had said,

"Story, Daddy,"

A faint smile had broken out on Owen's face as he told Timothy to go pick out a book. The little boy's selection had nearly made both of them cry. Owen put Timothy back into his lap and began to read, his low voice repeating his modified version of the story.

"_A father held his new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, and while he rocked him he sang..."_

Cristina had promised herself the entire day that she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't, crying was for weaklings. It was exhausting, undignified and useless. Cristina Yang was none of those things, so Cristina Yang didn't cry.

The next thing Cristina felt was a gentle hand wiping the moisture away. She lifted her head and looked into a pair of serious blue eyes. Cristina let out a sob against her will, and laced her fingers with Owen's. She wished fervently that Timothy would be able to have his father watch him grow up, as the child in the story did.

"Awright, mommy?" her little boy asked.

Another sob, but she managed a nod for Timothy's sake.

"Keep going," she whispered.

He nodded and continued. Timothy snuggled closer to his father, and Owen kept one hand clasping Cristina's, until he finished with,

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my daddy you'll be."

GREYS****ANATOMY

That night, Cristina lay in Owen's arms and sobbed; for how long, she didn't know. She just remembered clinging to him desperately, as if she held him tight enough, morning would never come.

The blur started again after that. The car came, but she couldn't recall it. Words were exchanged, but she couldn't remember what they were. Timothy screamed, but she couldn't remember what. It was just a blur.

And when it was over, she found herself with a still-wailing child in her arms, standing on a street corner, alone.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Things were not the same. They were very, very different. Timothy didn't understand why Daddy had gone away, or whether or not he'd be back, and Cristina couldn't bring herself to tell him that Daddy had just gone on a little trip and he'd definitely be back. Her mind refused to, refused to tell him what she herself had a hard time believing, refused to lie to her son.

Timothy had always been a Daddy's boy. Any time daddy had been away was very difficult for him. It made him confused and sad and angry. And given his parentage, when the little boy was angry, he fought. Which is why Cristina had to drag him out of daycare on several days, after finding him squalling in the timeout corner, glaring at a bawling child from across the room with a red mark on his face.

There had even been one day, when Cristina had been washing off after a surgery, when she heard little feet flying down the hall and a very familiar little voice yell "Mommmmyyyy!"

She had never been able to figure out how the child managed to escape daycare, much less get all the way to the scrub room, but she had enough on her mind.

So today, when she got the page that had become an almost daily occurrence, she sighed heavily and made her way to the daycare. There was the same scene that had been there nearly every day.

"I don't know what to tell you, Dr. Yang," said the teacher. "He's been like this for nearly two weeks. We've been getting complaints from other parents...if it keeps up like this....we're going to have to ask you not to bring him anymore."

Cristina's head shot up and she glared at the teacher.

"I'm a surgeon, I have lives to save. What would you suggest I do with my son while I'm in surgery?"

The teacher shrugged helplessly.

"We can't have children that pick fights, Dr. Yang. It's bad for everyone else's son or daughter."

Cristina nodded tightly and strode towards her son. Timothy looked up for a second, hope shining in his eyes. When he saw her, his face fell in a look that made Cristina ache inside.

"Nooo!" Timothy howled. "No Mommy! Want Daddy! Daddddddyyyy!"

Cristina's heart broke as she watched her son throw himself down on the floor, beating his hands and fists on the ground in fury, shouting out for his daddy.

Cristina knelt down beside her son, rubbing his back soothingly. Eventually, his fists and legs stopped beating, but the sobs continued. As soon as he would let her, Cristina scooped her son up in her arms.

"C'mon, baby," she said. "I know where we can go to feel better."

GREYS****ANATOMY

Cristina stood, clutching her son, waiting.

"What doing, Mommy?" asked the still-crying little boy.

"Just be patient, Timmy," Cristina soothed, but the little boy cried harder with every minute. Cristina was at a loss for what to do, and had almost decided to turn back, when Owen's voice rang in her head.

"_Wait. Just wait. Waaiiitt."_

Suddenly, a gust shot through the vent, nearly lifting Cristina and Timothy off the ground. Despite herself, Cristina let out a laugh as the air gushed over her. Then there was a little giggle beside her too.

"You feel that, Timmy?" she grinned. "This is where your daddy and I come to feel happy again."

"Again!" came the little voice.

At that moment, another gust shot through the vent, and Timothy giggled loudly, making Cristina laugh too.

As the dirty air gushed around the pair, Cristina could almost feel Owen holding her in place. She smiled. One day at a time. One day at a time and he'd come home.

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: Reviews please! I personally loved the idea of Cristina taking Timothy there when she was sad, and I'd really like to hear your thoughts. Also, the little girls from last chapter are going to be a bigger part of the story. I'm basing them off two little girls that I know, so they are real. And again, I'm always open to pairings and suggestions. I'm still tossing around the Callica idea, so it could happen. **


	6. Alex and Izzie 2

**A/N: Here's the next Alex/Izzie chapter. I'm really enjoying writing this story, especially with all the great feedback. Keep it up please. And as always, I'm open to any suggestions for future pairings and/or plotlines.**

GREYS****ANATOMY

Izzie Stevens wearily stripped off her surgical scrubs and began washing her hands at the scrub room sink. The surgery had been long and delicate, and although Izzie was a seventh-year resident, working with the brain required a neurosurgeon to scrub in with her. Derek Shepherd had done a fine job on the two little girls, and they were expected to make a full recovery.

Izzie couldn't help but feel an ache of sympathy for the girls while they were on the table, no matter how much she told herself not to get personally involved. Izzie recognized it wasn't one of her best qualities, but it was one she wasn't willing to give up, as she had told Bailey. She couldn't believe it, but it was one of Alex's favourite things about her. Izzie and Alex had been dating for almost five years straight now, and while their relationship wasn't always easy, Izzie loved Alex more than anyone. He was really much different than he projected himself to be. His outer image was tough and arrogant, but Izzie knew him to be sweet and caring. She had been watching him with little Marifer and was touched by his caring hand in soothing the scared little girl.

Izzie left the scrub room and moved to the room they had moved Inés and Marifer. They were still asleep, she saw, with Alex sitting between their beds, eating his dinner. Izzie plopped down on a chair beside him and stole a fry off his tray.

"Wow, Alex. You're really attached to these little girls."

Izzie had fully expected Alex to deny it, to say something to keep up his arrogant exterior, something about how it was convenient for him. Instead, he looked down sheepishly and shrugged.

"Nobody should have to be alone, especially in a hospital. They're only seven and nine, and they just went through major surgery in a place they don't know, where they don't speak the language, all alone."

Izzie looked at Alex steadily, trying to read his expression. There was pain there, she could see. But there was also a tiny flicker of what seemed like guilt. It got bigger when he briefly lifted his eyes to look at her. But before Izzie could ask, Alex spoke again.

"When I was ten, my dad discovered the joys of switching off days where he'd get too stoned out to form coherent sentences, and days where he'd get too drunk to even stand. One thing he could always manage to do, though, was pound on me and my mom. One night, he came home after being shot down at a job. Couldn't talk, barely standing up, but I knew what he was going to do. I...I tried so hard to defend my mom, I really did, but he was too strong for me."

Izzie stared at her fiancé with tears in her eyes, and almost looked away, as if this was a very personal memory that she shouldn't be listening to.

"The last thing I remember is him picking me up and throwing me across the room. I hit the wall, and the next thing I knew.....I was waking up in a hospital. I wanted to see my mom, that was the first thing I asked, but she was just coming out of surgery, and I wouldn't be able to see her until morning at the earliest. Which meant that I'd have to spend the whole night alone."

Alex broke off, choking back a sob. He looked over at Marifer, who was sleeping peacefully, and leaned to her, stroking her hair carefully off her head.

"I...I begged the nurses to stay with me, just until I fell asleep, but they all had work to do. I remember that night like it was yesterday: I lay wide awake in bed, clenched in a tight ball, as tight as I could get. I would jump at the slightest noise; I could actually _hear_ my heart hammering. But no matter what, I promised myself I wouldn't cry, I _wouldn't_ . Then, I felt the tears soaking the sheets, and before I knew it, I was bawling. I cried and cried and cried, but _nobody_ came. I was just a kid, I was all alone and I was so scared..."

Sympathy filled Izzie's face, as she reached over and covered Alex's hand with her own, then leaned her head on his shoulder, truly at a loss for words. This side of Alex was something she rarely saw, but when she did, she was lost on how to deal with it. Luckily, Alex seemed to accept her silence. He squeezed her hand, then sighed heavily and opened his mouth to speak.

"Iz –"

Suddenly, a stirring from one of the beds made both jump up. Inés was stirring in her bed, opening her eyes, trying to lift her head.

Izzie lifted her head off Alex's shoulder and immediately attended to the little girl, checking her vitals and bandages. At first, a look of sleepiness and confusion lay in the child's eyes. Then panic set in. She began flailing her arms and kicking her legs, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"No! No me toques! Dónde estoy? Quien es usted? "1

The girl flailed wildly in her bed, full panic setting in. Her screams grew so loud that Marifer began to stir as well. Alex looked down at her. The wide brown eyes held a spark of recognition, then the same look set in her eyes as in Inés's eyes. Taking in the other girl's panic, her eyes grew wide with terror and panic. Yet unlike Inés, she simply lay there, tears streaking her face, in the same tightly clenched expression of absolute terror that Alex knew so well.

Alex jogged out of the room and down the hall to the nurse's station. There was only one nurse there, and she was busy on the phone. After waiting impatiently for a moment, Alex slammed his finger down on the phone's disconnect button, effectively ending her call. The nurse turned to Alex angrily, but he quickly barked,

"I need a syringe of conscious sedation for the nine-year old girl in there, and a nurse or doctor who speaks fluent Spanish in that room, now!"

The nurse nodded and picked up the phone again. Alex jogged back into the children's room, where Izzie was trying to comfort Inés, despite the language barrier. Her soothing tone had quieted the girl somewhat, but she was still flailing and occasionally yelling.

Alex went over to Marifer, who was trembling and crying, clearly still terrified. He picked up her hand gently, whispering soothing words he knew she didn't understand but that he hoped would soothe her anyway. Marifer looked at him for a moment, then thrust herself into Alex's arms, with a little whimper that must have been her head wound protesting the sudden movement. Surprised, Alex wrapped his arms around the tiny girl, shielding her eyes as Lexie Grey and a Hispanic doctor carrying a syringe ran into the room.

"Dr. Karev, why is she screaming?" Lexie asked.

"Scared, Dr. Grey." Alex snapped. "They were in a car crash. She only speaks Spanish and Shepherd just operated on her. Just woke up and started panicking."

Izzie backed away from the girl helplessly, and Lexie took her place. Inés took one look at Lexie and slowly came to a halt. She stared at the doctor inquisitively, then recognition flooded her face.

"Tía Amalia?" she asked.

The little girl smiled and held her arms out. Lexie was clearly confused, but obediently sat on the bed and wrapped the child in her arms. She looked at the Hispanic doctor for help.

"I think that she thinks you're her aunt," the doctor answered. "She called you _tía_. That's the Spanish word for aunt."

Alex beckoned the doctor over to him.

"We need you to tell them that they're in a hospital, and that we're their doctors. Tell them that we're going to take care of them, and that they're going to be fine."

The doctor nodded and spoke to both girls in quick Spanish. Marifer nodded without lifting her head from Alex's chest, while Inés pulled back a little from Lexie's embrace.

"No es mi tía?"2 she asked, and Lexie shook her head.

Inés smiled and touched Lexie's face gently.

"Médico?"3 Lexie nodded again.

Inés settled back into Lexie's arms.

"Médico agradable"4

From the doorway, Izzie watched her fiancé and smiled. Even if Alex couldn't go back and save his mom or fix his dad, maybe he could at least make a part of this little girl's life a little bit less traumatic. And maybe, she mused, that would help them both heal.

GREYS****ANATOMY

**A/N: And that's all for now! .luv, I'm actually setting up for the next Mark/Lexie chapter, so it's coming! Again, I'm sorry if some of the Spanish isn't right, I tried my best. So please, read, enjoy, and review!**

1 No! Don't touch me! Where am I? Who are you?

2 Not my aunt?

3 Doctor

4 Nice doctor


	7. Meredith and Derek 2

**A/N: I had writer's block for the longest time on this, which is not so uncommon because usually I sit down to write it with nothing in mind, make it up as I go, and finish in one sitting. Still, I seriously had nothing for the longest time on this, so I gave up on it for awhile and helped one of my friends write her short story. Swear to god the Mark/Lexie chapter is coming! I started this one and that one at the same time but my friend and I are getting up early to go Christmas shopping in New York State tomorrow and I live in Canada, so it takes awhile to get there. Please be patient, work takes up a lot of time but I promise I'll try to get it done soon!**

**Disclaimer: They would have so much more fun if they were mine, and so would I. There'd be none of this Denny crap, Owen/Cristina and Mer/Der would get so much more screen time, and I'd be freaking rich! Not that all I think about is the money. Oh, what it could buy......**

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

The alarm that woke Meredith up in the morning wasn't any alarm beside her bed, but the rustling of sheets that she had become so accustomed to in the last six months. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and wiped her sleep-clogged eyes. Sleep was so rare as a surgeon and mother; she was almost tempted to snuggle down in bed for just another few minutes. Meredith felt her head drifting toward the pillow and felt her eyes start to close when a demanding wail rose from the next room. Meredith groaned and rose, making her way wearily down the hall.

"Hey, peanut!" she greeted her daughter.

Miranda answered by giving her mother a look that plainly said "you kept me waiting. I like to be taken care of right away." The look was so comical on the six-month-old that Meredith had to laugh, causing an even more indignant look to appear on her daughter's face.

"Well then, miss prima donna," Meredith said, lifting Miranda out of the crib. "Let's get you taken care of."

Meredith changed, fed and dressed her daughter with a practiced ease and loaded her into her carrier. She still would have liked shorter hours, but with Hunt gone, the Chief had been stressed enough trying to come up with a temporary (Cristina stressed _temporary_) replacement. So far, Sydney Heron had been covering, but they had noticed less patients coming into the ER than before Sydney started. They had tried to politely tell Sydney that people who were sick or hurt enough to go to the ER were not generally in the best of spirits given their predicament, and that perhaps she should just treat them with medicine, instead of "love". Unfortunately, Sydney had taken this as a challenge, and was, if possible, more bubbly and joyful to the patients than ever before. She was driving the patients out of their ER at an alarming rate, and it was panicking the Chief.

So Meredith still went to work as much as before, and left Miranda at daycare. Meredith strode through the daycare's wide doors and immediately noticed a little boy streaking back and forth, with a teacher chasing him. The boy was screaming with both joy and some form of amusement for causing his teacher this much trouble. He was a blur as he ran, but Meredith would recognize the tiny form of Timothy Hunt anywhere.

"Timmy, get back here!" the teacher called.

"Go, teacher, run, teacher, teacher no catch!" Timothy chanted joyfully.

Meredith smiled ruefully, but turned to the teacher at the entrance.

"I'm signing my daughter in," she told her.

"Name?"

"Miranda Shepherd."

The teacher marked Miranda down on her attendance sheet.

"Alright, Dr. Grey. I'll take her over to the babies' room," the teacher said, holding out her arms for the baby. Meredith nodded and knelt down into her daughter's carrier.

"OK, Miranda, mommy has to go to her work now but she'll be back for you tonight, okay?" Miranda smiled and blew a spit bubble. Meredith buried her nose in her daughter's dark blond curls and inhaled her scent. She gave Miranda a kiss on the head before reluctantly handing her off to the teacher.

****

Meredith had expected to be placed on neurosurgery, her usual preference, but had been told the other units were shorthanded from the shuffling of doctors to compensate for Hunt's loss, and she'd be floating today. She had no sooner picked up her first chart then Izzie appeared beside her.

"You're helping me and Alex on a case today, Mer. Remember the mother that was in the car accident and needed the c-section?"

Meredith confirmed with a nod.

Izzie hesitated. "Well, the mother came through the surgery well, but the baby's not doing too well. She was born with cardiac problems, and she's coded a few times in the last days. She's trying really hard to hang on but we're not sure....if she's going to make it."

Izzie's face held genuine sadness. Meredith knew she had gotten better at distancing herself from the patients, but it was still hard for her to grasp the thought of losing any, especially ones so young.

"Is there any hope for her?" Meredith asked.

Izzie shrugged. "Possibly. If she stays stable, we're hoping we may be able to repair her heart, but every time she codes, her body gets weaker, and there's less of a chance of her being able to make it through surgery. We're all taking shifts, trying to keep her as stable as possible."

Meredith nodded, and Izzie led her to the baby's little incubator. Meredith's breath caught in her throat as she looked down at the little girl. The baby had fine dark blond down for hair, and her clear eyes were a piercing blue. For a moment, it wasn't Tessa Jacobs in the incubator, but another baby, a baby very near to Meredith. Then the baby looked away and the spell was broken. Meredith cleared her throat and began to review the baby's chart. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she read the number of obstacles the baby had come back from.

"You really want to live, don't you?" she cooed to the baby. "Well, we'll try not to let you down."

****

For the next eight hours, Meredith, Izzie, Alex, George, and even Cristina took turns with Tessa. They monitored her closely and quickly attended to her when she took a downturn. Often, they would just sit by her and stroke her hair. They could feel the fight in the infant and they wanted to help her win this fight for what was so important, for her life.

At around 8 at night, they were all in the neonatal ICU, measuring out meds, when a shrill whine startled them to attention. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Meredith ran to Tessa's incubator to see that she had flatlined again. Cristina dashed over and looked the baby over. A shadow fell over her face as she backed away from the incubator.

"Her heart's too damaged. Her body's not strong enough," Cristina mumbled. "Even if we could shock it back, the damage that's already done can't be fixed."

Meredith choked back a sob and reached to stroke the baby's hair one last time. Alex reached up and solemnly turned off the monitor.

"Time of death, 8:03 pm." George whispered.

****

The next half hour was hell. Tessa's parents had reacted horribly to the news, shouting and crying and screaming. They had brought the baby in for the parents to hold one last time, but they had rejected her, too busy yelling say a proper goodbye. Their shift had ended soon after, and they all sat dejectedly around in the locker room, unable to bring themselves to go home. Just sitting.

Suddenly, Meredith lifted her head a little. "I have an idea."

She dashed out and returned a few moments later with a little bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. Weak smiles broke out on the group's faces immediately.

"Give her here," Alex said, holding his arms out.

Meredith placed Miranda in his arms. She cooed as she looked at her uncle and he held her tightly, rocking her back and forth. Slowly they all took turns, sitting in a circle, holding the warm bundle of life, a life untouched by something as horrible as death. And for now, that was enough. It's enough.

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: And that's all for now, folks! As a big favour to me, I'd really appreciate it if you guys would read and leave feedback on my story A Sorta Fairytale. It's under my profile, it's one of my school stories that I posted here and I'm not sure about it so any feedback would be ****much**** appreciated. Thanks!**


	8. Mark and Lexie 2

**A/N: Finally, here's the second Mark/Lexie chapter! Sorry it took so long; before-Christmas-break projects and work took up a lot of time. But we had a huge snowstorm today that pretty much grounded us so I didn't go to work or school. Sooooo, this chapter is the result of extreme boredom. Again, please make me very happy and **_**please**_** review my story A Sorta Fairytale (and this one, of course!) That would be a great Christmas gift to me lol! I got inspired for this one after watching many, many McSexie vids on YouTube, mostly because Mark and Lexie haven't been together long enough to really know what they'd be like together. **

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

By the time Lexie finally left the hospital, it was past midnight, and she was beyond exhausted. She stopped in her car and flipped open her cell phone to check her messages.

"_Hey, Lex, it's Mer."_ Lexie smiled at her older sister's voice. They had gotten much closer in the past few years, and Meredith had even been helping Lexie occasionally when their dad called drunk in the middle of the night, to go help pick him up at whatever sleazy joint he was passed out in that night.

"_Just wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie or something tomorrow. I have a day off, and I know you do too, plus I haven't seen you in awhile and Miranda misses her aunt!" _

Lexie smiled again. Cristina was right; every second sentence out of Meredith's mouth was about her daughter. She punched the save key, resolving to call Meredith back in the morning and accept her offer.

"Next message" the automatic voice said.

"_Hey, Little Grey. Just calling to say I miss you, and asking when you're coming home. Must have been a long shift for you. Hey, now that I think about it, I know a great way of.....releasing tension." _

Lexie rolled her eyes and deleted the message. Mark would never stop. She didn't mind, though. It actually made her feel special to realize that she was the only one that Mark Sloan, the admitted manwhore, settled down with.

Shivering from the cold that had now caught up to her, Lexie turned the key in the ignition and pulled carefully out of the parking lot, heading to the apartment she and Mark shared. Lexie had never gone back to the "crapartment" that she and George shared. Derek and Meredith had taken her into their house, where she had lived for nearly a year. She felt terrible imposing on Meredith and Derek, but they had assured her time and time again that it honestly wasn't a problem. Alex and Izzie had moved out soon after Lexie had moved in and gotten their own apartment, but Meredith had urged her to stay as long as she needed. During that year, she and Meredith had become "fully related sisters" as Meredith put it. She had also dated Mark through that year, and after, had stayed with Mark in his hotel room until they had gotten their own apartment.

Lexie hadn't spoken to George in any way except professionally, since she had moved into Meredith and Derek's place. She had taken a long time to ponder their friendship, or lack thereof, and come to realize that even if George hadn't noticed how she had felt about him, as a friend, he had not treated her right, even taken advantage of her. Lexie was a forgiving person by nature, but George had never come forward with anything resembling an apology, and Lexie wasn't going to wait around for him to. She had many friends and a boyfriend, and she had realized that she didn't really need George's friendship.

Lexie was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost missed the turn for the apartment, but she managed to catch it in time. She pulled her car into the parking spot and dashed through the frigid air and into the apartment's familiar warmth. Almost immediately, she felt two strong arms lift her off the ground and hold her in the air. Lexie looked down into Mark's eager face and giggled. He looked so much like an eager puppy sometimes, it was a wonder he ever managed to convince people he was cocky and arrogant.

A look of mock indignation came over Mark's face. "You laughing at me, Grey?"

Lexie squirmed, shrieking with laughter, as Mark tickled her sides and attacked her face with a series of kisses.

"Guess I am, Sloan. What are you going to do about it?" she managed to say.

Mark growled playfully and carried Lexie to their bedroom, dumping her unceremoniously on the bed.

"I think I have some idea."

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

Late that night, Mark and Lexie lay in bed, Lexie curled into Mark's arms, his fingers lazily combing her hair. Despite the peace in the room, Lexie couldn't seem to sleep. Her mind kept drifting to the little Spanish girl, Inés, lying all alone in the dark hospital. Poor thing, she was so small and so alone. When Lexie was that age and couldn't sleep, her mother would come into her room, and sit on Lexie's bed. She would wrap the young girl in her arms, fingers stroking her dark hair, and sing softly until she was sure Lexie was asleep.

Lexie couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something about the way that little girl reacted to being in the room with all adults that suggested something about where she from and why she was in America.

"I can hear you thinking" Lexie heard a husky voice rumble beside her.

She smiled. Trust Mark to know when something important was happening without her saying anything.

"Sorry," she mumbled, clearing her face of any worry.

But Mark wasn't buying it. He propped himself up on his elbow and faced Lexie.

"What's wrong?"

She sighed. "There was a little girl in the hospital today. Car crash. We assume her parents were killed in the accident, and we can't find any relatives."

Mark nodded, signalling Lexie to continue.

"I just...I don't know, Mark. She's only nine, and she's all alone. She only speaks Spanish, and when she woke up today, she just started screaming. Like, wouldn't calm down for anyone. Then I saw her, and for some reason she thought I was her aunt. She grabbed onto me and wouldn't let me go for hours."

Mark nodded again. "You gonna tell me why this is bothering you so much?"

Lexie studied the bed's sheet, twisting it between her fingers.

"I don't know why, Mark, but I feel so close to this little girl already....she's just got such a sweetness about her....and she's all alone, and I just can't help thinking......I can do something about that. I can help her."

Mark ran his fingers gently through Lexie's hair. "Will you take me to see her tomorrow? Maybe I can talk to her."

Lexie looked at him with suprise. "You speak Spanish?"

Mark blushed. "My parents made me take lessons when I was growing up. Guess they thought that it'd help me later, but when I became a doctor, it never really came in handy. Until now, I guess."

Lexie leaned back into the pillow, feeling slightly better.

"I will, then. You'll love her, Mark."

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: I was debating putting Mark and Inés's meeting into this chapter, but I thought I'd better give it its own chapter. And I actually do think that Lexie could do without George as a friend. I love George, but I think he did kind of take advantage of Lexie. As I've mentioned, I'm basing Inés (if anyone's wondering, ignore the accent symbol, it's pronounced just like it's spelled) and Marifer off of two girls I took care of, and I actually did have to sit with one every night, stroke her hair and sing to her until she fell asleep. I grew to love this ritual, towards the end, she wouldn't go to bed unless I did this and would cry unless I was either hugging her or holding her hand....**

**So as always, read, enjoy, and REVIEW! (This and A Sorta Fairytale, please!) **


	9. Mark and Lexie 3

**A/N: Here's your Christmas Day chapter! Took me forever to decide on the pairing for this chapter, but I decided to go with Mark and Lexie again, just more Mark this time. I sort of got inspiration for this chapter from the all-time greatest Christmas movie ever, Miracle On 34****th**** Street (1994 one). **

**Remember, 4 out of 5 doctors say that reviewing this story is beneficial to your health. The fifth doctor hasn't caved yet, but I'm working on it.**

**Everybody stay safe and have a great holiday season!**

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

The air had a sharp chill to it in the morning, and it bit Mark's cheeks as he hurried inside the hospital and kicked the snow off his shoes. He had left Lexie sleeping at their apartment, she so rarely got to sleep in and today was her day off, so they had agreed to meet for lunch and then Lexie would take Mark to go see Inés. He had to admit he was excited despite himself, he had never really been good at relating to children but he _did_ know what it was like to be alone, desperately wanting a family. If Derek's mother hadn't insisted Derek bring Mark home on more lonely night then he cared to remember, Mark didn't know where he'd be.

Mark arrived in the attending's locker room and quickly changed into his scrubs. Images of what his day would probably be like suddenly flashed through his head: complaints about pain after an operation, the nurses, the food, and surgeries who's great purpose in the larger scheme of things was to cure what people saw as major problems cosmetically. He had said earlier that people didn't come to him to fix what was on the outside, they came to him to fix what was on the inside. But did they really? There were real people with _real _problems out there, he knew that, he had lived that. So was it him just trying to convince himself that what he did was indeed important?

Mark shook his head in wonder. What was wrong with him today? What was it about this child that was making him think this kind of things?

Mark shook his head firmly, clearing it of any thoughts of Lexie or Inés. He strode resolutely into his first patient's room, glaring as usual at the interns that dared to cross his path, silently counting the hours until lunch.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Lexie was already in the cafeteria before Mark arrived for lunch. He piled his tray with food and as an afterthought, added two extra cookies to his tray, knowing full well that Lexie would steal them for herself. It was something he teased her about often, somehow she found it impossible to eat something so "loaded with sugar" herself, but acceptable if Mark bought it and she stole it from him.

As per usual, Mark sat down and kissed Lexie.

"You hungry, Lex?"

"Oh, no, Mark. Could never eat that stuff."Lexie said, eyeing the cookies longingly. Mark subtly pushed them to the edge of his tray near her.

"So, how's your day off been?"

"Oh, great so far. I talked to Mer, I'm going over there tonight to see Miranda and watch a movie or something."

With a look of mock disappointment, Mark whined, "Aww, Little Grey, I thought tonight we'd have a little.....show of our own."

Lexie snorted playfully, grabbing the cookie and taking a huge bite. "Seriously, Mark, don't you ever get tired."

Mark grinned. "Hey, once I got a reputation as a manwhore, I gotta maintain it."

Lexie slapped him playfully, mouth full of cookie. They are the rest of their meal in a playful banter, Lexie polishing off both cookies within the first five minutes.

Finally, Lexie's face sobered and she stood.

"You want to go see her now?"

Mark nodded and took her hand, and they walked into the hospital together.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Inés's room was flooded with light as they entered, but the young girl was lying asleep on her bed. Even asleep, Mark noticed she still looked tense. Lexie entered the room quietly and crept up to Inés. She sat gently on the bed and stroked her hair back gently. The young girl stirred and stretched in her bed, her eyes slowly opening. Her gaze fell on Lexie and she smiled.

"Tía....Medico Lexie. Hola!1" she said sleepily.

Lexie continued to stroke the girl's hair soothingly.

"Hola, Inés2. I brought someone to see you," Lexie answered, hoping the girl would understand her.

Mark stepped tentatively up to the bed and approached the girl. Instantly, the relaxed look vanished off of the girl's face and she shrank to the corner of her bed, curling into a tight ball.

"No! Irse! Déjeme en paz! Medico Lexie, tengo miedo!"3

The little girl began to cry, shaking in fear. Lexie looked at Mark helplessly, unable to understand why Inés reacted so violently around men.

Mark leaned into Lexie and whispered, "She's telling me to go away and leave her alone. She's telling you that she's scared. Lexie, this kid doesn't seem to trust anybody at first, especially men. I'd look up all the information in her I can, especially about her dad."

Lexie nodded, but just then, the child let out a long wail, and Mark couldn't stand there and listen to this anymore. He moved and sat on the bed, but the child just sank farther into the corner."

"Inés, Inés, está bien! No voy a lastimarte. Esta bien, niña! Soy un medico. Soy novio de medico Lexie."4

At this, the little girl's screams slowly silenced and she peeked out from under her bedsheet. She looked a bit less nervous but Mark could still see her clenched in terror. Mark tentatively reached out to brush some tears from her face, but the girl shrunk back into the corner. He sighed and got up to stand behind Lexie. Lexie moved to comfort Inés, but the little girl pulled the blanket over her head before she could reach her. Lexie moved back helplessly.

"Mark, she's terrified. Is there anything you can think of that may help calm her down?"

Mark searched his brain but came up blank. Suddenly, a dim memory came to him, playing like an old, faded videotape.

"When I was growing up, even before I met Derek, I had an older lady that lived next door. She was Spanish, and sometimes when I was very little she would come over and put me to sleep. I called her Grandma Vivian, and she used to sing me this Spanish lullaby, but I can't quite remember it. "

Mark thought desperately, and a began to hum out a soft melody. He carefully moved to sit down on the bed as the words flooded back to him.

_A la nanita nana nanita ella nanita ella_

(Oh the little girl, Oh the little girl, I speak of her)

_Mi niña tiene sueno, bendito sea, bendito sea_

(My little girl is sleepy, blessed is she, blessed is she)

Mark sang softly, and before long Inés put the sheet down to look at Mark inquisitively. Taking this as a good sign, Mark continued.

_Fuertecita que corre, clara y sonora_

(She runs so forceful, clear is the sound)

_Fui senor que la selva cantando llora_

(It was God that saved her, singing as she cries)

Slowly, the terrified look left Inés's eyes as she crawled up to Mark. She clearly recognized the lullaby, as she came up beside him and laid her head in his lap. Mark's heart melted instantly and he smoothed the child's hair. On the next verse, Mark heard a small voice singing with him.

_Calla mientras la cuna, se balansea_

(She falls within her crib, She balances herself)

_A la nanita nana nanita ella nanita ella_

(Oh the little girl, Oh the little girl, I speak of her)

_Mi niña tiene sueno, bendito sea, bendito sea_

(My little girl is sleepy, blessed is she, blessed is she)

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: And that's all for now, folks! Please review, and for anyone wondering about the song, it's an old Spanish lullaby. I have it by Tish Hinojosa, and I love it, it's gorgeous.**

1 Aunt.......Doctor Lexie. Hello!

2 Hello, Inés

3 No! Go away! Leave me alone! Doctor Lexie, I'm scared!

4 Inés, Inés, it's okay! I won't hurt you. It's okay, little girl. I'm a doctor. I'm Doctor Lexie's boyfriend.


	10. Cristina and Owen 3

**A/N: Fast update! I was waiting to write this chapter for days but I was visiting my little cousins, so I finally got a chance to type it up just now. It's also a great way to procrastinate with schoolwork :D. I'm loving Cristina and Owen sooo much, did anyone see the new promo with Owen in Cristina's shower? Can't freakin'wait! **

**How long do you guys think this story should be? I love writing it, but I've never known when to close my stories off, so I'd love some feedback. **

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

"Macheese, Mama!" Timothy yelled, banging his spoon against his plate. "Want macheese!"

Cristina sighed wearily. If Owen were here, she would have killed him for giving their 23-month-old son macaroni and cheese, especially since Timothy had been asking for nothing else since.

"Timmy, what has Mama told you _over _and _over? _When we're at Mama's work, we can't eat food that's bad for our tummies."

"Machesse!" Timothy shrieked insistently.

"No, _eat_!" Cristina snapped.

"No! No eat! Mean Mama!"

"Timmy, you _have _to get this food into your tummy..."

"Machesse! No eat! Yucky Mama work food!"

"Timothy James Hunt, if you don't open your mouth and eat this right now then...," Cristina roared, her thin thread of patience finally snapping, but she knew what her son was like when he didn't eat, and the daycare teachers were ready to kick him out as is.

At her sharp words, tears filled her son's big brown eyes, and the petulant expression on his face was replaced with a hurt expression. Nonetheless, his mouth slowly opened and he allowed her to feed him the offered stew. Timothy ate the rest of his meal in silence. Cristina knew her son was upset because of her impatience, but she just couldn't bring herself to comfort him. She was at her wit's end with Timothy. Even with the brief success of the vent, Timothy, an already over excitable child, seemed to be going out of his way to be as difficult as possible. Cristina knew in the back of her mind that he just wanted his daddy back, but often it didn't make dealing with Timmy any easier.

"Come on, bug. Let's get you back to daycare."

GREYS****ANATOMY

"James Drake, forty-two. In for the implantation of an LVAD, diagnosed with congenital heart failure two years ago. Admitted last night, currently stable."

Cristina rattled off the patient's stats, while watching his wife and children play out of the corner of her eye. James Drake was a muscular man who looked totally out of place in the hospital bed. His wife watched over the kids closely, but seemed to pay little attention to her husband. Suddenly, one of the children fell on the other, and both burst into tears. James immediately moved to comfort them, but his wife swept them up in her arms before he could and rocked them close to her, until they both were quiet. Cristina saw the look of disappointment on James's face, but stayed quiet and instead swept out of the room to get his lab work.

Throughout the day, Cristina noticed, James's wife rarely let the children even touch him. Every time one would approach him, she would pull the child back and either hold the child or distract her with a toy. Again, Cristina could do little but stay silent, even as she came in at night and saw James and the children asleep, but the wife, Mary, still up. She busied herself checking his vitals and blood pressure and jumped nearly three feet in the air when she heard a voice behind her.

"You think I'm cruel, don't you?"

Cristina whirled around to face her, and found the woman glaring at her, her eyes tinged with defensiveness and sadness.

"Ma'am?"

"I saw you. I saw you the whole day. You think I'm selfish. You think I'm cruel because I won't let my children see or touch their father."

"Ma'am, if I made you believe in some way that I was judging...."

"Do you have children, Dr. Yang?" Mary cut Cristina off.

"I..I don't think that has any influence...," off Mary's look, Cristina relented. "I have a 23 month old son."

Mary nodded. "And wouldn't you do anything to protect him?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I.."

"Then you know. Their father, he's....sick, and it's very possible that he could die. They shouldn't have to go through that, they're just children. And that is something you _don't _understand. If I can protect them from that hurt, even if it means tearing them away from their father, physically and emotionally, I've done my job as a parent. And that is not something _you _or anyone else can judge me for."

The wrestling match with Timothy coupled with her long, tiring day, Owen being gone and the prospect of having to get her son home and into bed caught up with Cristina in a sudden rush.

"Your job isn't just to be a mother. It's to be a wife, too. If your husband does die, not only will your children grow up without a father, but they won't remember their father, who loved them, thanks to you."

Cristina saw the stricken look on Mary's face but seemed unable to stop herself.

"And I'm not the only one judging. You're judging me by assuming I don't know what you're going through."

Cristina saw the protest about to spring to her lips and cut Mary off with a wave of her hand.

"My husband is in Iraq as a trauma surgeon. He's in a foreign, dangerous land helping soldiers live while I'm here being a heart surgeon and raising a 23 month old, who screams whenever he sees me because he doesn't want me, he wants his dad. So I'm here with a two year old who currently hates me and a busy career and any day now, I could get a call saying my husband has been blown to bits in some desert, and I'd never get to say goodbye to him. And neither would my son. So I guess that's one luxury you and your kids have above me. Excuse me, ma'am."

With that, Cristina strode out of the room , ignoring the sobs she heard coming from James Drake's room.

GREYS****ANATOMY

"Wear spidey, Mama!" insisted Timothy, holding up his Spiderman pyjamas, which Cristina knew were far too light for the cold winter night.

"Timmy, it's too cold for you to wear Spiderman. Look, you can wear the Pooh Bear PJ's. Don't those look nice and warm?"

"Spidey!"

"No, Timmy, you..."

The ringing of the phone put the argument on hold. Cristina's heart began to pound at just the sound. She picked it up with shaking fingers.

"Hello?"

"Is this Cristina Yang?"

Cristina swallowed nervously. "Yes?"

"This is Sergeant Brad Kilner of the United States Trauma Bay."

By now, Cristina's heart was pounding so hard that she was sure the man could hear it. Was this the call every army wife dreaded?

"I have Owen Hunt on the line for you."

At that, Cristina felt her blood pressure drop back down to a normal range and her stomach clench in a knot of excitement. She eagerly told the man to put Owen through and quickly set Timothy up in front of a cartoon. Cristina waited eagerly on the phone, and finally Owen's deep voice came on.

"Cristina?"

Cristina struggled to talk around the lump in her throat, chastising herself for acting so emotional.

"Owen?"

"God, Cristina..."

They struggled around words for what seemed like forever, then lapsed into silence for long moments.

"Cristina...I....I want to come..."

"No." Cristina cut him off. "You can't say things like that. You can't give me that to deal with too. Because I can't, Owen, I just can't deal with.."

"Okay. Okay....okay, I won't."

The silence that followed was more comfortable this time.

"How's Timmy?"

"He...he misses you. He misses you so much, Owen and..."

Owen clearly heard the catch in Cristina's voice. "Put him on."

"Timmy!" Cristina called. Timothy sullenly made his way towards his mother. "Guess who's on the phone?" Cristina scooped her son up and held the phone to his ear.

"Hey, bugs," Owen said. Instantly, a smile broke out that consumed Timothy's whole face.

"Daddy-bugs!"

"How's my little guy? You taking care of your mother?" Timothy nodded furiously.

"Want wear Spidey PJ's, Daddy!"

"I know you do, bugs, but it's very cold outside and Daddy doesn't want his little man to be cold, so wear your Pooh Bear ones, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy!" Timothy said cheerily. Owen and Timothy talked for a few minutes longer, and Cristina hadn't seen Timmy so happy in weeks.

"When come home, Daddy?"

Cristina heard Owen hesitate at the other end of the line. "Soon, bugs. Daddy's gonna try and make it home soon."

Seeing Timmy's eyes start to droop, Cristina filled his juice cup and gave it to him. She took the phone and rocked Timmy, who was rapidly falling asleep in her arms.

"I...I want to be home soon, Cris. It's only two and a half months longer. Please...please try."

"Alright," Cristina whispered. "I...I love you.

"I know you do. I know."

In the background, Cristina heard a voice yelling, "I _said_, get off the phone twenty minutes ago, Hunt."

The dial tone rang in Cristina's ear before she heard Owen's response. She listened to it for a minute longer before wearily hanging up the phone. Unaware of the tears spilling down her cheeks, she crawled into bed, taking her now-sleeping son with her, and fell asleep.

He was in every one of her dreams. And after every one, she woke up screaming his name.

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: Oh, now I know why Shonda likes to jerk us around so much. The power feels good! And I tried to make the phone conversation as true to the characters as I could. As we know, Cristina and Owen are not mushy people, so I tried to get it right. Lots of feedback please! **


	11. Alex and Izzie 3

**A/N: Six more days until the new Grey's! I managed to get my twelve-year-old sister addicted to Grey's , and we're both so excited about the new one! Are they letting George off the show? **

**Anyhow, here's the next Alex/Izzie chapter. Remember how I said I'm basing these two little girls off two children I know? Well, I got my inspiration for this one by going through my photos of them. Enjoy, and review please!**

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Izzie Stevens forced herself out of her warm bed and into the bathroom. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she found a note from Alex in place of Alex himself. He usually dragged even more than she did in the morning.

_Iz_

_I'm already at the hospital. Got a full shift today, but I didn't want to wake you. See you there._

_Love, frat-boy bitch. _

Izzie snorted at the last part, showered and dressed quickly, and was out the door within twenty minutes.

The drive to the hospital was a short one, but as Izzie checked her watch, she saw that there was only ten minutes until pre-rounds began. She stepped on the accelerator, but luckily there were very few people on the road at 4:45 in the morning. She pulled her car into the parking lot and ran into the hospital, with barely enough time to change before she met her interns. Taking into account their drawn, tired and generally unenthused faces, she snapped at them,

"Oh, you're all tired and you probably all want to crawl back into bed now. Sound about right?"

She received general nods and mumbled agreement.

"Well, snap out of it. I don't give a crap about how little sleep you got, right now there are people here with bigger problems then you have! Mildon, you're with Karev up in Obstetrics today. Howes and Parcel, you're working with Heron down in the ER today, try to intercept as many patients from her as you can. Andrews, you shadow Grey in Neuro."

Nodding, her interns dispersed and Izzie rounded her patients with her usual level of efficiency.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Lunchtime came before Izzie realized it, but again, with the notable absence of Alex. Izzie furrowed her brow in confusion and caught Nurse Olivia by the sleeve as she passed.

"Where's Dr. Karev?" she asked.

"Uh, I saw him up in Pediatrics, Dr. Stevens." Olivia answered, then muttered under her breath. "Where he always is these days."

Izzie nodded and made her way to the Pediatric post-op ward, where she found Alex, sitting in one of the clown papered rooms, speaking softly to little Marifer. Izzie stood silently in the doorway, balancing her tray in her hands, as she watched Alex point to the flower on the girl's night gown and slowly repeat,

"Español, flor. Inglés, _flower. _Can you say _flower_?

"Fl…flor..no….flowe..flower. Si! Flower!"

The little girl clapped her hands delightedly and held out her hand. Izzie spotted a little box in Alex's lap. He plucked a little felt flower out of it and handed it to Marifer. Izzie saw an assortment of other felt shapes in the girl's lap and figured that Alex must be teaching her how to say their names in English.

"Mas, mas! Otra vez!1" the girl said excitedly.

Izzie shifted in the doorway, accidentally banging her tray on the doorframe. She caught it quickly, but the noise caused both Alex and Marifer to look up. Alex smiled at Izzie and beckoned her in.

"Hey, Iz. Come see what she's learned so far."

He turned back to the girl, who was looking at Izzie unsurely, and spoke slowly to her again.

"This is Doctor Izzie, Marifer. Say 'hello, doctor Izzie'."

The girl nodded, sending her blond hair flying.

"Ho..hello, Doctora...quiero decir....Doctor Izzie." She looked at Alex for approval. He nodded at her with a smile. Encouraged, she repeated it, more sure this time.

"Hello...Doctor Izzie."

Izzie smiled and came to sit on the bed. She reached out and stroked the child's hair.

"What have you been working on that's been taking up so much of your time?" she asked Alex.

He blushed ever so slightly. "I've been trying to teach her some English. At first I just wanted to find out more about her, like where she comes from, why she's here, stuff like that, you know? But once we started, she won't let me stop. And she learns so quickly. And once I started giving her these little felt things whenever she got a couple answers right, she can barely let me leave."

Izzie nodded. "So what did you find out about her?"

Alex shrugged. "Not much. She doesn't really seem to like talking about herself. She says that her name is actually Maria Fernanda Alvarez, Marifer is just a nickname. She told me her birthday, and what city she's from. We've looked it up; we still can't find any relatives. So for now, she'll have to stay here."

"But what about after she's healed? You can't get too attached to her, Alex. Once she's well enough to leave, we'll have to turn her over to child services."

A dark look clouded Alex's features. "Yeah, that's just what she needs. Not only has she undergone brain surgery, but she's getting turned over to a home with people she doesn't know who don't speak the same language in a strange country. And since when do _you_ lecture _me_ on not getting too attached to patients?"

Izzie recoiled. "Alex, relax. All I'm saying is watch yourself."

Alex sighed darkly and played with Maria Fernanda's hands. Izzie laid a hand on his shoulder, pleased when he didn't shrug it off.

"Anyway, that won't be for at least another week."

"Yeah," Alex echoed softly. Feeling a tug at his hand, he looked up at Maria Fernanda.

"Doctor..Alex. ...Cómo se dice..... almuerzo?2"

Off their confused looks, she pointed to Izzie's tray of food, which she still had balanced in her lap.

"Almuerzo."

"Oh, lunch. Do you want lunch?" Now it was the girl's turn to shoot Alex a confused look. He pointed to the tray, then to his stomach, then to Maria Fernanda.

"You, lunch?"

The girl nodded eagerly.

"Hey, tell you what," Alex lifted the girl into his lap. "How about you come to the cafeteria with me and Doctor Izzie? Uh...vaya...a la cafeteria?"

Marifer nodded eagerly, and Alex scooped her into his arms, wrapping her carefully in a blanket.

"Coming, Iz?" he asked.

Izzie fell into step beside him, and together, the three of them headed for the cafeteria.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Their usual table was crowded by the time Alex and Izzie arrived. The others were surprised, to say the least, when Alex sat down with a little girl clinging tightly to his neck.

"Hey, hey," Alex soothed, gently unwinding her hands from her neck. "It's okay. These are friends. Can you say friends?"

"Am...fr...friends?" she sniffled.

"Excellent!" Alex praised, rewarding the girl with a hamburger from his tray, which she snatched up and took a huge bite. Alex let the girl rest against him and eat, smiling when he felt her relax a bit.

He felt the others staring at him as if he had grown another head. He glared, but, unwilling to upset the girl, introduced her.

"Maria Fernanda, these are my doctor friends. Guys, this is Maria Fernanda Alvarez, she's going to join us for lunch today."

The group mumbled hellos, but the girl continued eating in silence. In moments, most of Alex's lunch was gone, with the girl occasionally offering Alex some. Suddenly, both Alex and Izzie's pagers blared, making the little girl jump.

"Damn. 911, I gotta go. Iz, can you take her back to her room?"

"Sorry, 911 for me too. I gotta go. Can anyone else take her?"

Meredith finished her lunch quickly and knelt down beside the girl.

"Hey, sweetie," she said. "Can I take you back to your room?"

Maria Fernanda looked at Alex apprehensively. He smiled gently at her.

"Está bien, Fernanda. Está bien."

Maria Fernanda nodded slowly and held her arms out to Meredith, who picked her up gently. Alex watched her go before taking off. He didn't want to admit it, but Izzie was right. He was getting too attached to this girl. What would happen when he would be forced to let her go?

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: How was that? Feedback please!**

1 More, more. Again!

2 ....how do you say..lunch?


	12. Meredith and Derek 3

**A/N: I am soooooo sorry for how long this took. Work is every day now, and the end of school craze had me feeling more pressure than I knew was possible, so I just didn't have time for this story, because unfortunately, work and school have to come first.**

**I have to officially apologize to all you Mer/Der fans for the chapters that have been decidedly lacking in Mer/Der goodness. I really love them as a couple, but for the life of me, I can't think of any good twists to put in the story. I hope this chapter meets with your approval, though!**

**Is anyone else getting tired of the slew of new actors that are coming through Grey's? I think of William Dunn, Sadie, Arizona Robbins, Jackson, and Owen, Owen and William Dunn are the only ones I like.**

**Eric Stoltz was so great in kind of a creepy way in that role. When he was executed last night, I sobbed. And this is in fact the first episode of Grey's to make me cry. He has officially made a fan out of me!**

**Disclaimer: Yep. I own them. I'm secretly Shonda Rhimes. Had ya fooled, didn't I? And isn't this Denny/Izzie story the stuff of dreams and ridiculously rich show creators? Hey, stop with the fruit throwing! Hey.....ew! That was a rotten peach!**

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

"Maaaaaaaa!"

"_Ouch_!"

Morning at the Shepherd house started as normal, as Meredith woke with a start to the sound of Miranda crying out, and Derek's cry of pain as one of Meredith's flying fists caught him square in the face.

Awake now, Meredith tossed onto her side and faced Derek, watching him mutter something along the lines of,

"What the hell do the sleep gods have against me? Doctor, wife snores when she sleeps and punches me in the mouth when she wakes up. Is this some kind of sign that I'm just not allowed to sleep?"

Meredith let out a little giggle and kissed Derek gently where she had punched him.

"Sorry, Derek. Hard habit to break, I guess."

Derek glared playfully at her.

"Then is there any chance that when you sleep, you could face the other side? Despite what you may think, it's actually somewhat less then exciting to wake up to a left hook every morning."

Meredith set her face in a mock pout.

"But it's such a carefully honed skill."

Derek smiled and moved into Meredith. Their lips were millimetres apart when the insistent cry came again.

"Maaaaaaa!"

Derek groaned and Meredith laughed and jumped out of bed and down the hall to Miranda's room. There, she found her daughter lying in bed, face twisted as if she was getting ready to cry.

"All right, Mimi, it's okay. Yeah, that's it little girl, it's okay, Mommy's here." At Meredith's voice, the tense look vanished off the baby's face and was replaced with a bright look that was almost a smile. Meredith grinned back and wiped the spit from the corner of her daughter's face.

"Let's go see Daddy, okay peanut?"

Miranda gurgled in response, and Meredith carried her down the hall. Before she got to the room, however, she heard the screen door slam and Lexie's voice call out

"Mer?"

"Up here, Lex!" Meredith called.

Footsteps pounded the stairs and Meredith saw Lexie round the corner.

"Hey, Mer. Hey, Mimi! Come to Auntie Lexie!" Lexie stretched her arms out and Meredith let the baby go to her aunt. Miranda gave Lexie a wide, toothless smile, as she bounced the baby into the air and caught her.

"Derek still asleep?" she asked, turning to Meredith.

"Nope, Derek's up," came the sleepy voice as Derek made his way out of their room, still in his pyjamas.

"Da!" Miranda cried, stretching her arms out to her father.

"Hey, princess!" Derek greeted his daughter with a smile. Miranda stretched her arms further, but as soon as Derek reached for her, she seemed to change her mind and instead latched her little fists onto Lexie's shirt. Derek smiled.

"Rejected by yet another girl," he said, slipping his arm around Meredith's waist. "That could easily damage my ego."

Lexie laughed and handed Derek his daughter.

"Actually, Lexie, I'm glad you came over. I actually wanted to talk to you about something..." Meredith broke off and looked at Derek, who was fiddling with Miranda's hands and cooing at her, not looking at his wife or his sister in law. Lexie turned her gaze to Derek too, and he finally looked up. Off their looks, he handed Miranda back to Meredith, turned away sheepishly and ambled down the hall.

"I was thinking..." Meredith continued. "I'd like to take Miranda to meet her grandfather. I think it's time he met her."

Lexie's face folded in confusion. "But Derek's dad has been dead for..." then, realization hit. "Mer, you want to take Mimi to meet _our _dad?" Meredith nodded.

"But Mer, nine days out of ten, he's...."

"Drunk, I know. But Miranda's six months old and she hasn't met him, and I want her to know her family. Dark and twisty though he may be, he's still family." Meredith hesitated briefly. "And I'd like you to come...if you want to."

Lexie smiled despite herself, reading her sister's hidden message. "You want backup?" Meredith nodded hesitantly.

"Love to, then," said Lexie. "I've got a day off coming; why not spend it with our alcoholic father."

****GREYSANATOMY****

As per usual, Thatcher Grey's house was dark, even in the midday. Meredith pulled to a stop in front of it and let herself out. She cast the house wary glances as she unbuckled a sleeping Miranda from the backseat. Meredith picked up the warm, soft bundle that was her daughter, cuddling her close as they approached the house. Miranda sighed softly and snuggled into Meredith's neck, completely trusting and innocent.

The doorbell rang six times before they heard any indication of activity in the house, which came in the form of an incoherent grunt. Meredith's heart sank with any futile hope that their dad may actually be sober for a day, but she pushed the bell again regardless.

Footsteps staggered unsteadily to the door, and Meredith heard the locks slowly turn before the door swung open. In the doorway stood a version of her father Meredith had become all too familiar with: unshaven and unkempt, with bloodshot eyes and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Whiskey in his hand. Just when Meredith was definitely regretting this decision and ready to grab Lexie and turn back, he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" he slurred, pointing at Lexie. "You...not at Harvard? Drop out?"

"No, Dad." Lexie replied patiently. "I graduated from Harvard seven years ago, remember?"

A brief light of recognition shone in Thatcher's eyes.

"Yeah. Lexie. Lexie! How _are_ you? And...Meredith? Is that you?"

"Hi, Dad."

Thatcher took another swig of his bottle, and the friendly demeanour ebbed a little.

"Well, come in, then. Sit down," he said, vaguely indicating a worn, smelly couch. Meredith and Lexie sat gingerly, careful not to wake Miranda.

Thatcher plopped down in the seat opposite them with a dry, hacking cough.

"So," he said. "Why are you here?"

Meredith and Lexie looked at each other, and Meredith stood carefully, bringing the baby over to Thatcher.

"This is why," she said, carefully easing the baby into a cradling hold so he could look at her. Thatcher glanced in confusion at the baby and looked back at Meredith.

"Who's this?"

Meredith gave him an encouraging nod. "This is your granddaughter, Miranda" she replied. Thatcher looked at the baby in amazement and gently touched a finger to Miranda's face.

Taking this as a good sign, Meredith held her closer to Thatcher as he let his fingers explore the baby's soft skin. Just beginning to wake, Miranda looked a bit startled at this stranger's face. But, seeing the face of her mother, she quieted and lay contentedly in Meredith's arms. Thatcher reached his arms out to take the baby, and Meredith hesitantly handed the baby to him. The alarmed look flew back into Miranda's face at the transfer. Meredith had found Miranda to be a clingy baby, but usually she calmed if strangers talked softly and quietly to her.

"What's her name?" Thatcher asked, his voice a little too loud. Miranda's bottom lip started to quiver.

"Miranda. After Miranda Bailey, my mentor." Meredith answered.

At this, Thatcher gave a loud, booming laugh, the loud noise and alcohol on his breath bringing a frightened wail from the baby.

"Yeah, stupid name, kid, stupid name." Thatcher laughed into Miranda's face, only succeeding in making Miranda wail harder. Thatcher's face contorted in rage suddenly, when Miranda began kicking and screaming.

"Quiet!" he snapped, but Miranda continued her pitiful wails.

"Maaaaammmmmaaaaaa!" she screeched, and Meredith held her arms out for the baby, but Thatcher yanked her away.

"You little shit!" he bellowed in her face. "Shut up, you fucking brat!" Meredith gasped and yanked her baby back into her arms as Lexie jumped up from the couch. Meredith cuddled Miranda close, whispering soothing words and stroking her hair, until the baby's cries settled.

"Shhhh, it's okay Mimi, Mama's here. Mama's here, Mama's so sorry, Mama loves you, little one."

Thatcher grabbed Meredith's arm and pulled her around, spewing spit with every word.

"Figures you would have gone and got yourself pregnant. You...you both...such sluts."

"Hey!" Lexie burst out. "You can't talk to my sister and my niece like that!"

"Get out!" Thatcher growled.

Meredith leaned right into his face and looked him in the eye. "We're going. But just know this – when you die, you'll die alone. I wanted – want- you to be my father, but if you ever talk about my daughter or my sister like that again, you won't hear from any of us ever again."

With that, she grabbed Lexie's arm and strode out the door.

****GREYS ANATOMY****

Later that night, after Miranda had been put to bed and Meredith had climbed into her bed herself, she felt a warm pair of arms wrap around her waist.

"I heard about today." Derek's voice whispered in her ear.

"Yeah."

"You get what you went there for?"

Meredith was silent for a moment. "I don't know. I think maybe...maybe I went there knowing how it would go. Maybe I went there to finally say what I wanted to say for so long."

Meredith felt Derek smile. Silence ensued until Meredith thought Derek had fallen asleep, until she heard him speak.

"Hey, Mer?"

"Hmm?"

"There's no screaming baby this time."

Meredith grinned and rolled to face Derek, pressing her lips to his.

Neither got much sleep that night.

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY


	13. Cristina and Owen 4

**A/N: University applications: stupid wastes of time requiring a **_**lot**_** of schmoozing on essays. Just generally things that shouldn't exist. Unfortunately, mental applications haven't really come into style yet, so for now, I'm going to have to be content with just writing one chapter a week, if that. If there are big gaps in between updates, I'm sorry in advance, that's probably work. I love my work, but it does get in the way of having a life.....saving money, so again, university's fault :D.**

**Anyway, here's your Cristina/Owen chapter. I love writing these! If I make any mistakes as to the army, I'm sorry but I am Canadian with no firsthand experience with the army so I'm researching it, and it might not be exactly accurate, but bear with me here. **

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and please review!**

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

The first thing Cristina registered when she woke was a warm, sleeping figure curled next to her. She felt her conscious mind, the logical, rational part, quickly identify the figure, but for some reason, the hopeful part of her mind that was usually pushed down with so much success allowed her for several blissful seconds to pretend it was not the peacefully sleeping child she knew it was, but a man with red hair and blue eyes, in their bed as he should be, not half a world away in danger every second.

The moment ended as full consciousness took over Cristina's mind. Owen was not here. Owen was gone. Owen was in Iraq again, leaving both Cristina and their son to fend for themselves. Owen may never come home. Never. Cristina felt a flash of pain shoot through her as she stamped her foot, catching it on the edge of the bed.

"_Damn it!_" she hissed. The stress of the past few weeks rushed to her in one dizzying wave and she felt the tears rush unbidden down her face.

She sat there, perched on the edge of their – her – bed, head buried in her hands, hating herself for being so emotional yet seemingly unable to stop herself. She was so engrossed in her own tears that she didn't notice the bed's other occupant climb over to her and bury himself in her lap. Cristina felt two little hands pull her hands away from her face. She looked down at the inquisitive face of her son, as he stretched his tiny hands up to his mother's face, one hand on each of Cristina's cheeks.

"Sad, Mama?" he whispered.

Cristina let out a half-laugh at her 23-month-old son comforting her, instead of the other way around.

"Yes, bugs. Mama's very sad."

"Why sad, Mama?"

Cristina paused. "Lots of grown-up things are making Mama sad, Timmy."

Timothy nodded sagely. "Mama sing to me when I sad. Timmy sing to Mama?"

A sob forced its way out of Cristina at her tiny son's sensitivity. "Yes, Mama would like that."

Timothy nodded and settled himself into his mother's embrace. A minute later, Cristina heard her son's tiny voice singing softly to her. Timothy still didn't know the words to many songs, so the songs he sung were decidedly random, but Cristina felt herself closing her eyes and rocking both of them back and forth as the toddler sang.

After long minutes had passed, Timothy's head came up and he looked at his mother.

"Make you feel better, Mama?"

Cristina nodded, tenderly smoothing her son's hair. "Yes, baby. Mama feels much better. Thank you."

****GREY'S ANATOMY****

The usual round of patients were on Cristina's rounds. She checked each one with the same professionalism, assessing their post-ops and pre-ops, performing her surgeries with the same amount of skill and accuracy she had always prided herself on. Yet now, the routine felt mundane. After all her rounds had been done and her surgeries completed, she went to Bailey to ask what else she could do. She had no sooner tapped the small woman on the shoulder then Bailey turned sharply on her heels.

"How long has it been now, Yang?"

Cristina stared blankly for a second, then realization kicked in. She shook her head, trying to maintain her sense of professionalism.

"Two months now, Dr. Bailey. Now, what else can I..."

Bailey's stayed professional and somewhat cold as she asked,

"And how much longer is he going to be gone?"

Cristina's face folded in confusion.

"Why, Dr. Bailey?"

She snorted. "Just wanted to know how much longer we could count on you to be this dark and depressing. More so than usual."

Cristina looked down in embarrassment. Was she really that obvious?

"Sorry, Dr. Bailey. It's just...." Cristina struggled to find the right words without appearing to emotional. "...it's hard sometimes, that's all."

Cristina saw Bailey's face soften a little. "I know, Yang. I know," was all she said.

They stood in silence for a moment, before Bailey cleared her throat, her usual angry expression returning.

"Since you're done, you can go cover the pit with Heron," Bailey grabbed Cristina's arm and pulled her down to her level to whisper to her. "And for the love of god, Yang, keep the patients away from that woman. Even _I'm_ starting to miss Hunt. At least he was....normal."

Despite herself, Cristina felt a laugh bubble forward.

"I will, Dr. Bailey."

****GREY'S ANATOMY****

If she had expected to see a wide array of emergencies in the pit, Cristina was sorely disappointed. Instead, the pit was quiet, with only six people. Two were coughing fiercely, one slept, his flushed with fever, one held a small child that slept in her arms, and the last held a towel with blood seeping through it to his arm. Cristina immediately called the last one to her and led him into an empty room to clean his wound.

After being quiet for several minutes, the young man suddenly spoke.

"Man, what is _with_ that woman? Did she surgically paste a smile on her face?"

Cristina looked up at him and snorted, the sour look still on her face.

"Maybe. She's a good doctor, though."

The guy peered more closely at Cristina.

"Hey....I remember you!"

Cristina ducked her face, but the man still persisted.

"Yeah, you were helping that other guy in the ER one day when I was here!"

"What other guy?"

"The guy with the red hair, that other doctor. Yeah, he went through me and three of my friends in like a half hour." The man whistled. "Badass. Pretty impressive. Where is he? Why is that other girl here instead?"

Cristina felt a pang in her stomach. With a yank, she finished his last stitch and laid a gauze pad over it.

"He's not here anymore," she mumbled.

"Shit. Why not? He get fired?"

Cristina glared. "No. He's just gone."

Before the man could say anything else, the Chief suddenly yanked the curtain back, and anxious expression on his face.

"Dr. Yang. Could you come with me please?"

Confused, Cristina shook her head. "Actually sir, I'm in the middle of a shift...."

"Stevens is going to take over, "the Chief interrupted. "I want to talk to you in my office."

Off Cristina's still confused look, he added "I think you'll want to come, Dr. Yang."

Nodding finally, Cristina followed the Chief to his office, all the while wondering what this could possibly be about. She had no sooner walked into the office, then she suddenly froze. A figure stood hunched over in the corner, head facing the ground. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up, and his blue eyes met Cristina's steadily, warmly.

Cristina felt as if a linebacker had suddenly rammed into her, knocking the air out of her body. Only one word managed to force itself out.

"Owen...."

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

**A/N #2: Hehe. Couldn't help leaving it on a cliffhanger there.**

**xkiisstheraiin, don't think the hypocrisy of the cliffhanger evilness is one iota lost on me lols. But they are addictive, I can see why you use them!**

**Reviews please!**


	14. Cristina and Owen 5

**A/N: *Insert evil laugh here* I know, I know, I'm way too evil. Still, you guys outdid yourselves with those reviews. Eleven reviews on one chapter? Wow! **

**Thanks for your patience, here is the next Owen/Cristina chapter, because inspiration struck and I just couldn't leave you guys hanging like that. As a forewarning, this is a very angsty chapter. **

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

They walked into the deserted on-call room, Cristina trailing slightly behind Owen, trying to read him. His posture was loose and relaxed, but Cristina could see tension in his neck and apprehension in his eyes, as if he knew what was to come but was trying to hide it. Once again, though, that tiny, hopeful part of Cristina she had tried so long to quench piped up, and as soon as Owen shut the door of the on-call room behind them, she spun around and flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder. She felt his arms wrap around her as well, and for a few minutes, they simply stood there, breathing in each other's smell after two months away. Strangely, Cristina felt no shame for this display of emotion, to utterly caught up in her husband. Back from war. Finally.

It was an indefinable period later when Cristina's rational side finally caught up to her and she reluctantly disentangled herself from Owen's arms. She looked up at him, uncertain, and he caught her hand and led her over to a bed. They sat in silence for a moment, before Cristina spoke.

"You're.....you're back?" Against her will, a strain of hopefulness piped into her voice as she tensely awaited his answer. Her heart sank when she saw him hesitate briefly.

"Yes. Well...no, not really. I mean..." Owen sighed, dropping his head and studying their hands for a moment, seeming to gather his courage as he looked up at her again.

"I'm on R&R for two weeks."

A smile crept onto Cristina's face. "You're here for two weeks?" Her mind ran wild as she thought of all they could cram into two weeks. She'd have to see if she could take time off work. The chief would probably understand. She'd pull Timothy out of daycare. Oh, he'd be so happy..

It was the look on Owen's face that stopped her reverie. He didn't look happy. In fact, he looked depressed. As if coming home was a burden. Her face stilled, but he caught her look and averted his eyes again. Cristina caught his face in her hands and forced it up, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"What?" she whispered.

Owen's eyes took on a look of infinite sadness, then steeled, as if he was preparing himself for the reality. The look scared Cristina. It was just as she imagined he would look tending to wounded soldiers in Iraq. Cold and hard. The piercing blue eyed look bored into Cristina's brown eyes as he spoke.

"Cristina...the Trauma bay...there...there were casualties. Many, many casualties. RPG ambushes are popping up all over the place; it's getting harder and harder to detect them. There have been so many trauma injuries, I'm shocked they let me come home. It's been so bad...."

Cristina nodded, beckoning him to go on, but she could tell he was about to get to the part he was dreading telling him.

"Trauma surgeons have been bombed left and right. I'm one of the few left in my unit. So...what that means is..."

Owen let out a long, shuddering breath.

"The tour I'm doing...it's going to be longer than I thought. Much longer, actually. I think....they think, I mean...that it could be...up to years."

For the second time that day, Cristina felt the sensation of all her breath being knocked out of her lungs in a certain instant. Her head spun wildly. Fear consumed her. Then confusion. Then...rage. At last something tangible, something she could physically _feel_. For long moments, she was grateful for the rage that filled her like fire burning through her whole body. She ripped her hands from Owen's, and jumped off the bed.

"_What_?" she hissed.

"Cristina..." Owen began, holding out his hands in a placating manner.

"_No_! No, don't touch me!" Cristina paced the room frantically. Her elbow caught on a bunk but she barely felt it. She whirled to face Owen, rage consuming ever cell in her body.

"You actually mean that...you're saying that...you won't be home for _years_? If at all? And _this_ is how you tell me?!"

"Cristina...I...I wanted to tell you in person...I didn't want you to hear it from some army sergeant with a cold phone call..."

"Oh, _right_," Cristina snapped venomously. "No, it's much worse to get a call saying I may never see my husband again then to hear it from him. Yeah, thanks a whole fucking lot Owen, I feel _so_ much better now."

"Cristina, please...I don't want the whole time I'm here to be like this...I came because I wanted to see you and Timmy, I came because I.."

"No, don't even say it!" Cristina head still spun wildly, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. "Don't even fucking try, Owen! Jesus Christ, did you even _think_ about what this could do to me? You coming here, making me believe everything could be the way it was again...just dangling that possibility in front of me and yanking it away?"

Owen stopped suddenly, his face blanching at Cristina's tirade. She barely seemed to notice, unable to stop herself.

"And what about our son, Owen? Did you even think about what this could do to Timmy?"

Owen stumbled over a few explanations, seeming unable to look his wife in the eye. Finally, he managed to whisper

"What do you want me to say, Cristina?"

Cristina released a bitter laugh. "Say you can't go. Tell me that you will give it up, for me and for Timmy."

A noise that sounded almost like a sob rose in Owen's throat, and he walked over to Cristina, who had finally deflated after all her anger had been spent. He took her in his arms, taking it as a good sign that she didn't make a move to resist. They just stood there, Cristina wrapped in Owen's arms, until he finally spoke.

"I _can't_, Cristina. Even if I wasn't under contract, it's in my blood. You don't know what it's like out there. For all purposes, those people are my family, my brothers. I can't just abandon them. _Please_," Owen begged. "Try to understand. I _so _wish I could just walk away. Please, God, don't take this to mean you and Timmy mean less to me, because you don't. You two are my whole world, but don't you see? I'm doing this for _us_. _I'm _out there fighting so Timmy won't have to be. So he can grow up the way he should, never having to think he's not safe."

Tears leaked from Cristina's eyes at Owen's words, but she wrenched herself out of his arms again, hardening her heart against the crushed look in his eyes.

"Get out," she whispered.

"Cristina..."

"Go!"

"Please, just.."

"No, just _go_!"

This time, the noise was definitely a sob as Owen nodded weakly and shuffled out the door, closing it behind him. Cristina didn't even try to make it to a bed as she collapsed on the floor, the sobs jerking her whole body.

And the world was grey, harsh and cold, so cold.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

**A/N#2: So.....angsty,huh? I'm honestly not sure if that was better or worse then leaving you guys hanging. **_**Please**_** review, I'd love feedback on this chapter. **


	15. Alex and Izzie 4

**A/N: *Ducks flying bad-smelling objects being thrown as this is not a Cristina/Owen chapter* Okay, in my defence.....the other characters needed to be written about! So here is your next Alex/Izzie, Mark/Lexie is up next. It should be up fairly soon, as I have just finished two weeks of full days at work, now I just work scattered shifts, and that leaves me lots of time to write. I'm actually writing a story for myself about a sick child that I want to post somewhere and get feedback, but I'm not sure where to post it...I'm open to ideas if anyone has any.....**

**Well, anyhow, here's the next Alex/Izzie chapter, let the angst-fest begin!**

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

"Doctor Alex! Mírame1!" Alex smiled at the joyful little voice as he entered Maria Fernanda's room. She waved to him eagerly as she gripped onto her physical therapist's hands and slowly followed her across the room, in small, measured steps. Maria Fernanda was slowly but surely gaining her balance back after the accident and the operation, but she was fragile, both physically and emotionally. Alex had made sure her physical therapist was a woman, but that hadn't stopped the little girl from cowering in fear of her the first time they met, unable to lift her head from Alex's shoulder as she clung to him, shaking in terror.

Of all people, Alex couldn't understand why Maria Fernanda trusted him so implicitly. Though she allowed others to associate with her, she would only willingly spend time with Alex, and sometimes Izzie. She needed him to stroke her hair and soothe her to sleep every night, grew too upset to speak when he wasn't there when she woke up in the morning, and he was the first person she asked for whenever somebody visited her room in the morning. Because of this, Alex had ended up spending most of his nights in the on-call room, with a nurse under strict orders to page him if she woke.

Alex was snapped back suddenly to the present by the physical therapist's perky call.

"Okay Fernanda, let's go see Dr. Alex!"

Alex looked up to see that Fernanda's endurance was starting to waver and her steps were becoming laced with fatigue. Nonetheless, she hobbled determinedly in Alex's direction, still gripping the therapist's hands for balance. As she got to a few paces away from Alex, the therapist slowly let go of her hands and instead walked beside the girls, arms out to catch her if she should fall. Alex held his arms out to Fernanda, and with a sudden surge of strength, she managed to walk the few paces forward and fall into Alex's arms.

The therapist broke into a round of cheers as Alex carefully lifted the girl into his arms and cuddled her, kissing her cheek and whispering "I'm so proud of you, Fernanda!"

She looked a tad confused, so Alex searched his brain frantically for the Spanish word for "proud."

"Orgulloso. Yo. De usted.2"

Fernanda beamed and threw her arms around Alex's neck. After a moment, he heard her mumble "Te amo, Dr. Alex.3"

Alex felt his heart squeeze. This little girl loved him. She loved him and god knows she shouldn't, considering who he is and what she's been through. He was supposed to be her doctor, just her doctor, and she was a traumatized child who he had inadvertently developed an attachment to. Izzie's words rang in his head, _"...__you can't get too attached to her, Alex. Once she's well enough to leave, we'll have to turn her over to child services."_ He had come up with some snide retort, but the truth was he himself was thinking that very thing, worrying that when the time came, he wouldn't be able to let her go.

****GREYS ANATOMY***

"See, it's okay, Fer. Doctor Izzie is going to do this quick and then we're gonna go for a walk, okay? Después. Paseo.4" Alex barely felt the nod against his shoulder and gave Izzie a nod. She slipped the needle in quickly and Alex felt Fernanda tremble, but she finished quickly and Alex drew Fernanda's head away from his shoulder. She was getting better about the medications, but again, would only take it if Alex was with her.

Alex tucked a blanket quickly over his arm for future use and lifted the girl off the bed, placing her carefully on her feet. It was several days later and he had invited Izzie to join them on a walk down the hospital halls. Fernanda had been getting much stronger at walking during the last few days, with daily physical therapy, but she still tired easily, so they made sure to keep the walks short. However, Fernanda actually seemed to enjoy having Izzie along on their walks, and was even willing to let Izzie hold her hand and guide her as they walked. Today, they set off towards the ER, Fernanda holding one of Alex's and one of Izzie's hands, walking jerkily but steadily. Occasionally, she would lose her balance and fall onto Alex, but straight away pick herself back up and continue on.

After awhile on this particular day, however, she stopped in the middle of the hallway, bringing both Alex and Izzie to a halt.

"Tengo una mano. Que ambos se toman de la mano.5"

Alex and Izzie looked at each other in confusion, then back down at Fernanda. She stumbled out from between them to behind them and grabbed one of their wrists in each hand. She brung their hands together until their fingers were laced together, then stumbled to Alex's side and grabbed his left hand. Smiling, she took a shaky step forward.

"Vámonos,6" she huffed.

Alex and Izzie smiled at each other, each conveying silent emotions with their eyes. God, Alex loved being with Izzie. She made him so much better as a person when he was with her. He liked to believe they had a future together; that they would be together forever, but he couldn't actually believe that he was actually entertaining these thoughts. Still, looking at them now, holding hands with a precious little girl walking beside them, he allowed himself a moment of blissful hope that maybe it could actually turn out that way.

They had just made it to the end of the corridor when Alex saw a woman dressed in a formal business suit leaning against the nurses' station, apparently waiting. When she saw Alex, she smiled at started toward him. A sudden instinct seized Alex to grab Fernanda and run, but his legs felt leaden, unable to move. She approached them and smiled a wide smile. A shark smile, Alex thought.

"Dr. Karev?"

Alex gave a stiff nod.

The shark smile came again, and Alex felt Fernanda gripping his hand tighter.

"I'm Sharon Fielding, from Seattle Children's Services. I'm here about Inés Vargas and Maria Fernanda Juarez."

GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY GREYS ANATOMY

**A/N: So, I was looking at that second last paragraph, and it just seemed so happy and hopeful. So of course, I said "Well, I can fix that!" and voila, the last paragraph was born.......all I request you not throw are sharp objects.**

**The little girl I'm basing Fernanda off of spoke no English when she came to me, but after two weeks, she learned a lot of English. Among my favourite sentences in her new English vocabulary was 'I love you'. God, I miss that kid.... **

**Please review for a faster Mark/Lexie update.**

1 Doctor Alex! Look at me!

2 Proud. Me. Of you.

3 I love you.

4 After. Walk.

5 I hold one hand. You both hold hands.

6 Let's go.


	16. Mark and Lexie 4

**A/N: Yep, it's been three months. I am metaphorically climbing onto one of those little metaphorical dunking booths and giving you all the metaphorical opportunity to throw metaphorical balls at me and metaphorically dunk me. Strictly metaphorical, of course. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Grey's Anatomy, I certainly wouldn't find it necessary to take like 80 breaks a year, as this year has been.**

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

The pediatric ward was quiet as Mark and Lexie made their way down the hall. No children wandered the halls, the rec room was empty, and only nurses quietly floated in and out of rooms. The head pediatric nurse, an older lady with creased laugh lines around the corner of her eyes and a southern lilt to her voice, stopped briefly to smile at the couple.

"Pretty quiet today," she remarked.

Mark nodded in agreement.

"We're here to visit – " Lexie began, but the nurse cut her off.

"I know who you're here to visit, much as I'd like to think you're jus' here for the pleasure of my company," she said with a light laugh. "You're here for that poor lil' girl, Inés. The one who was brought in with that other lil' girl, the one that Dr. Karev spends all his time with. Poor little darlin'."

Mark and Lexie nodded in agreement.

"You found her parents yet?" the nurse asked.

Mark shook his head.

The nurse clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Well, I believe the nurse jus' visited her to take her vitals. She was awake then, probably still awake now. Go on in, but be quiet, mind."

Mark gave a brief nod of thanks and he and Lexie continued down the hall to the girl's room. Inés was lying quietly in her bed when they entered, but sat up as soon as she heard them enter. To their surprise, a tentative smile broke out over her face.

"Doctora Lexie! Doctor Mark! Hola!"

Mark felt his heart melt at the young girl's greeting. Was this the same child who cowered in fear under the sheets when they came into the room? That young girl was afraid of anyone and everyone. This child held her arms out to receive hugs, which Mark and Lexie happily gave. Inés climbed trustingly into Mark's lap and leaned her head against his shoulder. Mark rested his head against the girl's and pulled Lexie down onto the bed with him, slinging an arm around her waist. Inés reached up and pulled her fingers through Lexie's hair, absently twining it between her fingers in a slow braid.

For some moments Mark allowed himself the luxury of pretending this could last. That they could be here forever, he and the person he loved most in the world, a trusting, quiet little girl settling herself across their laps. His mind wandered idly, and he, almost subconsciously, pulled both Lexie and Inés closer.

His reverie was broken by a soft rap at the door. Looking up, he saw the nurse from earlier at the doorway.

"Sorry for interruptin', folks, but I jus' wanted to let you know that if you wanted to, you could take Ms. Vargas here for a lil' walk around the halls. This ol' room gotta be gettin' tiresome after awhile."

Lexie turned back to Inés.

"What do you say, Inés? You want to go for a walk?"

Inés's brow furrowed as she started at Lexie in confusion. Lexie turned to Mark, who quickly translated the question into Spanish.

"Ah! Si!" Inés said eagerly.

Mark nodded affirmatively to the nurse, and she quickly fetched a wheelchair for them. Within a few minutes they were wheeling the girl down the halls.

"Qué es eso?" Inés asked every few minutes, beginning a long process consisting of Lexie's attempted explanations, Inés's puzzled looks, and Mark's translations.

Eventually, they settled into a routine. When they would come to a corner, Inés would call "Derecha!" or "Izquierda!" for right and left, and they would turn in that direction. Inés was the picture of wide-eyed curiosity, wanting to see everything.

Eventually, they took a turn off a hall to the left, and found themselves facing a red sign with white lettering. Around the sign, childlike art and colourful decorations adorned the doors. Mark and Lexie immediately stopped, hoping to distract Inés enough to pull her away quickly, but she was having none of it.

"Vamos! Vamos!" she implored. Mark pointed in the other direction and talked to her in Spanish, trying to convince her to leave this ward alone, but Inés pointed through the doors firmly.

"No! Aquí, aquí!"

Finally, heaving a weary sigh, Mark pushed her through the doors marked _Pediatric Oncology._

**(Break)**

If Inés was shocked at seeing the playroom filled with children stricken with cancer, she didn't show it. Slowly, she got up from the wheelchair and haltingly walked the few steps to a sofa, where a slim, dark-haired woman sat with a brown-haired toddler on her lap. The child was obviously the woman's son, as they had the same blue eyes and waved brown hair. Lexie and Mark hurried over to the couch, but Inés was already tapping the woman on the shoulder.

"Hola." Inés said softly.

The woman looked up and caught Lexie's eye. Then her gaze landed on Inés. The girl gave her a tentative smile, and the woman smiled weakly back.

"Um...hola." the woman answered awkwardly. She seemed unsure of what to say, but at that moment, her son crawled out of her lap and to a farm toy set a few feet away. His mother immediately moved to follow him, but before she could move, Inés crawled over to join him.

The boy was a toddler, no more than three or four years old. His face was pale and drawn and he was thin, his body straining with the effort of fighting a disease that was taking over his body. However, he picked up a toy cow with a spark of energy in his eyes. Looking up at Inés, he held up the toy.

"Moo" he said.

"Moo?"Inés intoned questioningly.

"Moo." The boy confirmed with a nod. A smile broke out over Inés's face as the child held up another toy, then another.

Mark felt Lexie squeeze his hand with pride as they watched the two children play.

And again, Mark felt that sense of permanence.

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

**A/N: Sooooo sorry for the long wait, hopefully this chapter was at least a little bit worth it! This might be an obvious question, but does anyone know how to make those lines that signify breaks? **

**As I have said before, in the great (slightly modified) words of Chandler Bing: The fifth psychiatrist caved and now they're all recommending reviewing. You heard 'em, folks. You can't make this stuff up. No need to put your mental well-being at risk.**


	17. Cristina and Owen 6

**A/N: Yep. It's been forever, and my only excuse is a broken laptop with a hard drive needed replacing. I'm sorry for the loooonng wait, but I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. I know the Cristina/Owen chapters are enjoyed, and this one seemed to write itself. Please enjoy, read, and REVIEW!!**

Grief, betrayal, helplessness. These were not emotions Cristina Yang was unfamiliar with. You didn't watch your father's life slowly ebb away as a child and not be left with a residual taste for the harsher side of life. And it wasn't like she hadn't seen things she'd rather forget in her work. People were taken from their loved ones all the time. One moment they were there, the next, gone. And death was final. There were no takebacks with death, no opportunity for second chances.

Which was why Cristina didn't understand the feelings that were rushing over her after her confrontation with Owen. Owen was alive. Owen was healthy. Owen loved her and Timmy. She wasn't like those grieving widows whose last words to their husbands were ones of hate.

And yet, wave after wave of sorrow overcame Cristina, leaving her on one of the hard on-call room beds, crying harder than she'd cried since her hysterical reaction to the ectopic pregnancy.

A half hour ago, Owen's visit had lifted Cristina to a happiness she hadn't been at in months. To go from that to this in that short a time sent a flash of anger surging through Cristina, though it quickly diminished, and she was back in the place she hated – weeping with her head in her hands, like one of those weak women that always needed men to take care of them. The old Cristina Yang wasn't like that. The old Cristina Yang was fiercely independent, almost to a fault. All the way back to grade school, through med school and through her internship. Sometimes she wondered if that was what caused the failure of her relationship with Burke. However much she might have loved, she had been unwilling to truly let him in, so absolutely sure she could take care of herself. Even after he left, her streak of independence had carried on.

So she didn't understand. She didn't understand how, without even trying, she had come to depend on Owen. She had come to need him in her and her son's life, and the prospect of spending years away from him made all the emotions – confusion, anger, loneliness – all rise again with a fury.

She didn't know what she'd do. She didn't know what would happen tomorrow, the next day, or the years to come. She only knew right now, and right now, all she could do was lie weakly on the bed and cry for what she was losing.

GREYS****ANATOMY

Owen knew he should leave. The longer he was in the hospital, the more chance of someone finding him, and he didn't want to hurt anyone else like with his news, not like he had hurt Cristina. He didn't think he'd ever forget the look in her eyes when he told her how long he'd be gone for. He knew his wife, and he knew that when faced with bad news, her defenses rose and the walls she built around herself rose another foot. In her eyes, Owen had betrayed her, and the nagging voice at the back of his mind suggested that perhaps he had.

So while leaving the hospital before anyone else found him here would have probably been the smartest thing to do, Owen's feet seemed to have a will of their own, and before he knew it, he was heading in the direction of the daycare. And once he had turned in that direction, he knew, despite the danger of being spotted by Derek or Mark or someone else, he had to see Timmy. He had missed his son more than anyone else while he was away, aside from Cristina of course, and hearing that little voice on the phone had only heightened the desire to see the little boy in person. How much had Timothy grown since Owen had left? Could he talk better then when Owen left? Was he still having trouble outgrowing diapers?

The daycare doors appeared in front of Owen before he knew it, and he was inside, acknowledging the teachers, and heading for Timothy what seemed like seconds later.

The boy was playing with the stack of Lego in the corner, alone. Owen whistled to get his attention, and called to him gently.

"Hey, bugs."

Timothy looked up, his brown eyes taking in the sight of his father. Without warning, he burst into tears and launched himself into his father's arms, burying his face in Owen's neck and sobbing.

Having his son back in his arms was making Owen happier than he had been in months, as he rubbed the child's back soothingly.

"Miss Daddy….Daddy home…miss Daddy…Daddy home," Timothy repeated in between sobs, clutching Owen as tight as he could. Tears welled in Owen's eyes at the child's words.

"Yeah, baby. Daddy's come home to visit Timmy. Daddy's here."

"Well, well, well. Look who's back in halls of Seattle Grace." A familiar voice behind him made Owen look up.

Miranda Bailey stood in front of Owen, hand on her hips, a wry smile on her face.

Owen gaped for a minute. Of all places, he had not expected to run into Bailey here. And of all people, she was the worst and the best person to go to. Inevitably, she would make him give up the whole story of his visit, impart her famous "Bailey wisdom", call him a fool, and leave.

"Dr. Bailey." Owen managed. "What are you doing here?"

Bailey scoffed. "I could ask you the same. You think you're the only one with a child here, Hunt?"

"Well…no, but..."

"Still as articulate as when you left." Bailey retorted. Her face softened slightly, and she wrapped Hunt in a brief embrace.

"Glad to see you safe and sound, Hunt." Owen nodded in thanks, hugging her back with one arm, the other still wrapped around Timothy.

"Well, sit down," said Bailey, gesturing to a chair. They both sat, and Bailey, never one to mince words, got right to the point. Just as he had suspected, Hunt found himself pouring out the whole story, right up until the aftermath of his and Cristina's confrontation. Strangely, it felt better when he got it off his chest, and Bailey listened patiently, her face judgment free.

After he had finished, Bailey only nodded slightly before standing up. Her face lost its patient expression, and returned to its usual penetrating glare.

"Glad to see you're still a fool, Hunt."

"Why? Because I'm trying to serve my country, trying to do my job, trying to save lives…"

Bailey scoffed. "And while you get out and do your hero duty, your wife and kid sit here all by their lonesome because you care more about strangers then them?"

Owen gaped. "They're not strangers. They're my platoon, I _know_ these guys. They're good guys; they give their lives to fight for our country."

Bailey sighed. "Commendable, Hunt, I'm not debating that. You've served your country and done it well, and you've saved many, many lives. But you also saw what it did to you, being over there. It may not have killed you physically, but it very nearly killed you emotionally. You were so traumatized you could barely save lives _here._"

Owen looked down in shame. He remembered vividly how hard it had been, and he never wanted to go back there.

"And then you and Yang started your…whatever you call it, and you started to heal. You both started to heal. Then this little one arrived, and the wounds closed. But now what you're saying is you are so determined to keep your hero complex intact that you would be willing to do that again, not only to you, but to Yang as well?"

Bailey clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Like I said Hunt, glad to see you're still a fool."

And with that, she was gone, leaving a stunned Owen in her wake.

GREYS****ANATOMY

The knock at the door came at nine o'clock, just after Cristina had gotten Timothy to sleep. Her heart thudded as she swung the door open to Owen, standing in the doorway, studying his shoes. She steeled herself inside and forced her face into an angry expression.

"What?" she barked.

"Hi," said Owen. "We need to talk."


	18. Meredith and Derek 6

**A/N: I wanted to keep the momentum going with this story. I hope it works, I'm sorry to those expecting a Cristina/Owen chapter, but I haven't written anything for Meredith and Derek in awhile, and this storyline came to me suddenly, when usually the Meredith and Derek chapters are impossible to write.**

**Disclaimer: Not Shonda Rhimes, don't own Grey's Anatomy, must you rub it in?**

--

"Grey!" Bailey called as soon as Meredith crossed her in the hall.

"Need help in the pit!"

Meredith stopped short. "Dr. Bailey, I'm a neurosurgery major."

"Don't think I know that, Grey?

Meredith fumbled. "You're…not my resident, I'm not an intern."

Bailey lifted her eyes from her chart and walked straight up to Meredith. Bailey's eyes bored into Meredith's eyes and Meredith fought not to look away.

"I'm aware of that, Grey." Bailey's words were slow and deliberate.

Meredith fought to keep her voice even. Even as a last-year resident, Bailey still frightened her.

"I need coverage in the pit today, and you're the first one of my fools I saw."

Sighing in resignation, Meredith took the charts. "Any specific cases?"

Bailey nodded. "Damn shame, this one. Sixteen-year-old AIDS, just gave birth. She has no plan to keep the baby, and we expect the baby is HIV-positive as well."

"She didn't take AZT during her pregnancy?"

Bailey shook her head.

"I don't think she did much of anything about her pregnancy. No prenatal care, no doctor-assisted delivery, no outside care of any kind. It's a miracle the baby was born without Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, Down Syndrome or any kind of affliction besides the HIV."

Meredith flipped through the chart, feeling her spirits sink lower and lower.

"She just gave birth?"

Bailey nodded. "Not an hour ago. The baby's up in the neonatal ICU, but the girl needs care. I'm making this your case, Grey, mom and baby." Bailey turned and walked briskly away, throwing one last glance over her shoulder. "Don't screw it up."

--

In the pit, Meredith found the girl quickly. She was dressed in bright colors, her clothes many sizes too big for her in what Meredith guessed was a former attempt to hide her pregnancy, and she was yelling loudly for attention.

"Hey! What's a girl gotta do to get out of this damn hospital?"

Meredith strode bravely into the cubicle.

"Good morning Ms….Starrel, I'm Dr. Grey. How are you feeling?"

The teen scowled at her, her eyes cold. "It's Felicia. And I'm feelin' like I wanna get out of this damn hospital."

Meredith forced a smile onto her face. "Well, how about we get you cleaned up before we think about getting you out of here, okay?"

"Whatever."

Nodding, Meredith started an exam on the teenager. She did have AIDS, based on her bloodwork, and she had apparently given birth outside the hospital. Bailey had said she didn't want to keep her baby, but Meredith wondered if that might be different after she saw her baby.

"Do you want to see her?"

Felecia shot her a confused look.

"Your baby. Do you want to meet her?"

Felecia scoffed. "Kid got the virus?"

"We think she's HIV positive, yes, but that shouldn't stop her from having a relatively normal childhood, as long as you make room for some allowances."

"Nah, kid would be better off given to some 'proper' family." Felecia said, adding air quotes around proper. "Can barely look after myself, I never wanted that kid."

Meredith nodded, trying to be understanding. Felecia's life must have been incredibly tough growing up, it was hardly any wonder she didn't want to do the same to her daughter. The problem was children with special medical conditions like HIV were difficult to place in foster homes, with a tendency to get bounced around.

"Are you sure you don't want to just see her? You might feel differently after you see her."

Felecia groaned. "Will it get you off my back? And can I go after that?"

Meredith hesitated. "Felecia, I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing…"

"Yeah, yeah, save me the social worker talk, had enough of those in my lifetime. Just give me the damn forms, give me a look at the kid and let me go."

Meredith felt herself giving up. Technically, she couldn't make Felecia stay, though maybe it would be best if the girl stayed an extra night for observation, given her medical condition and having just birth. Suggesting this to the girl, she was met with an eye-roll and a groan, but no verbal protests. Meredith took this as a slightly more positive sign.

She finished the exam quickly. Felecia seemed to actually be fairly healthy after having given birth and barring further problems, should be free to leave tomorrow.

Several minutes later, she was wheeling the teen up to the nursery to look at the baby. She pushed the wheelchair carefully in between the incubators, stopping at the fifth one in the second row. Felecia's baby lay sleeping, her tiny body still curled from being inside her mother.

Meredith found herself staring intently at the little baby, who against all odds had survived her mother's reckless pregnancy. She had to be a fighter, Meredith thought. She needs to be, with the road she has ahead of her. Unable to stop herself, she reached inside the incubator, stroking her finger over the baby's downy hair. The child stirred and Meredith smiled.

Felecia, on the other hand, cast a brief look down at her baby, and then looked back up at Meredith.

"That it? We done?"

Meredith's head snapped down to the teen.

"I'm sorry?"

Felecia gave an impatient sigh. "Can you give me whatever the hell forms I need to sign to get out of here and get rid of her?" she said, gesturing to the baby.

Meredith frowned. "You still don't want her?"

Felecia shook her head. Meredith gave the baby's hair another stroke, making the girl turn towards her with a smirk.

"You and your guy need a kid? I got one right here?"

Despite herself, Meredith longed to take the child. Already, she felt a connection, even if it only was mutual mothers who didn't want their children. Pulling herself away, she unlocked the breaks on Felecia's chair.

"Come on. Let's get you those forms, then back to your room."

--

"Penny for your thoughts."

The soft voice behind her made Meredith jump.

"Oh, Derek. I didn't see you there."

Derek smiled and slipped an arm around his wife's waist. After her shift was over, Meredith found herself back in the nursery, with Felecia's baby.

"So who's this?" Derek asked.

Meredith slipped her finger into the baby's tiny fist.

"Her and her mother are my patients. Her mother's only sixteen, has AIDS, and doesn't want her. And she's HIV positive."

Derek nodded sadly, and they lapsed into silence for a few moments.

"She doesn't even have a name." Meredith whispered.

Derek was silent for a moment.

"Why don't you name her?" he said.

"Me?"

"Well, her mother obviously doesn't want to. So go ahead. What's her name?"

Meredith paused in thought for a moment, then a smile broke over her face.

"Anabelle," she whispered. "Means 'easy to love'. It seems fitting."

Derek gave a small chuckle and drew Meredith closer.

"Hey, Annabelle." he cooed. The baby's eyes opened at the name.

"See, she likes it, Mer," said Derek.

Meredith was quiet, then spoke so quietly that Derek had to strain to hear.

"I'm registered as a foster parent."

--

**A/N#2: And that's all for now, folks. Wow, that chapter practically wrote itself. Quite a relief, since the Mer/Der chapters are by far the hardest to write. Review, pleeeease!**

**Also, if anyone was offended, I really mean no offence to teen parents. I know several teens that are excellent parents, so there's no offence intended.**


	19. Cristina and Owen 7

**A/N: Oh wow, I just don't have any excuses. Well, maybe a few. I started university, and first semester was absolutely insane given the number of classes, plus I'm not nearly as into Grey's as I used to be. Izzie is really bothering me, so while this was supposed to be an Alex/Izzie chapter, I've got nothing for them right now. Hope Huntina will do, I get a lot of requests for these.**

For long moments, Cristina and Owen just stood in the doorway. Owen noticed she hadn't tried to close the door in his face, a small victory to be sure, but he had to take them where he could get them. Owen had considered himself lucky so far. He had several convincing arguments prepared coming in, anticipating resistance and fighting, because that was the Cristina he used to know.

He could physically feel Cristina's defenses rising with every moment they stood there, and he wanted nothing more than the storm he knew was inevitably coming to hit already, because somehow this tense silence was worse. Suddenly, all the arguments Owen had prepared for this moment seemed inadequate, as he took in the dark bags under Cristina's eyes and her disheveled appearance.

Suddenly, the sound of small footsteps was heard, and Owen took in his son running for the door.

"Stranger, Mama. No open door for stranger." Timothy stopped at the door, his face immediately breaking into a gap-toothed smile.

"Daddy!" He darted by Cristina's legs before she could stop him and launched himself into Owen's arms.

"Mama! Daddy see me at school! Daddy home!"

Owen fought to keep his eyes on Cristina as they narrowed with rage.

"You saw him at _school_? You, Mr. "I just _have_ to go back to Iraq, they _need _me, thought it was a good idea to go see the boy who has done nothing but miss you since you left, before you took off on him again?"

Despite his best efforts, Owen's head dropped and his eyes focused on the floor. He felt somehow like a chastised child, unable to meet Cristina's eyes.

"I..I realize it may not have been the smartest move, but…." He swallowed and forced himself to look up, while Timmy's tiny arms twined tighter around his neck. "It'd been so long. I needed to see him…"

There was no forgiveness in Cristina's eyes as she lurched forward and pried the child from Owen's arms, to immediate protest. With difficulty, she wrestled the boy onto her hip.

"Timmy, you need to go watch your video. Daddy and Mommy need to talk."

Tears began to spill from Timothy's eyes. "No video! Want Daddy!" He squirmed against his mother, trying in vain to get out of her vice-like grip.

Cristina sighed. "_No_, Timothy. Go watch your video. You've already seen Daddy today."

Timothy shook his head fervently and began pounding with his small fists against Cristina. "Don't want Mama. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! No Mama!"

Owen saw a myriad of emotions flash across Cristina's eyes. Anger, sadness, disappointment, rejection, exhaustion. Unfortunately, Owen knew what happened when Cristina fluctuated between these emotions, and it wasn't good for any of them.

She ducked her head so she was looking the child in the eye, her voice raised almost to the pitch of a yell.

"Timothy Hunt, GO watch your video now!"

The child's eyes widened in shock and fear, and his cries intensified. Cristina set him down and he dashed away, sobbing, into his room. Owen flinched as he heard the door slam. Cristina heard it too, he knew, as she adopted a pose few saw her in. Her shoulders slumped, her dark curls covering her face, everything in her suggesting total defeat. Owen wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, especially with so much of what was weighing on her being his doing. But even as he heard what he was fairly certain was a sob escape, he knew she would not accept comfort for him, not right now.

"Cris.." he whispered, stretching his hand out to her.

"Well, at least you know he hasn't leaned in favor of me since you left." Cristina croaked wearily, her head still bent. "He's hated me since you shipped out."

"Cris, he doesn't hate you," Owen implored.

Cristina scoffed. "If he doesn't hate me, he's making it pretty damn clear he'd rather you were here, and I'm just a poor substitute."

This time, Owen couldn't help reaching out to her. He laid a hand on her arm, rubbing it gently. Cristina tensed and pulled away immediately, but gave enough leeway for Owen to step into the apartment.

"He's two, Cris. He doesn't understand what's going on yet. He probably thinks…he probably thinks I ran out on you and he doesn't have anyone else to take it out on," Owen could feel himself choking on the words.

Cristina lifted her head, fixing her surprisingly tear-filled gaze on Owen standing in the doorway.

"And what's your excuse, Owen?"

He did a double take. "My excuse? What do you…"

"I mean, I know why Timmy so clearly wants to be anywhere else, what about you?"

Stunned, Owen stepped in. "Cristina, it's not _anything_ to do with - "

"Really?" Cristina interrupted. "Because you rushed off to Iraq the first time and left us, you're getting ready to leave a second time, you and I had possibly the biggest fight we've ever had today, and at no point did I see anything indicating you might want to be with us at all."

"Cris, that's not.."

"What are we to you, Owen? Because I know how important the army is to you, really I do. But I thought…" Cristina scoffed, looking thoroughly disgusted at herself for how she must be sounding. "I thought that we were enough for you. But now you're about to run back to Iraq, so If we're not enough to make you stay, then I guess there's really nothing left for you to talk about. You'll be a soldier and a hero and I'll be a surgeon and a mother whose son hates her."

And just like that, Owen found himself in the hallway with the door slammed in his face, behind it Cristina's quiet, contained sobs and Timmy's wails.

Not sure where to go next, Owen wasn't sure how he found himself back at the hospital. Studying his shoes as he walked, he was almost bowled over when someone knocked into him.

"Owen?" the voice asked.

Owen glanced up and found himself staring into Derek's face. Immediately, the neurosurgeon wrapped him in a "guy hug".

"When did you get back? Have you been to see Cristina and Timmy yet, and why aren't you there now?"

"Uh….it's late. I didn't want to wake Cristina." Owen lied, knowing full well the truth was apparent on his face.

Derek studied him, recognizing a look he knew all too well from the later years of his marriage to Addison. With resolve, he clapped the other man on the back.

"Well then come on back with me, you can crash on our couch for the night."

"Oh I don't really…"

"Trust me," Derek said. "It's better left to the morning. Years of marital experience. Now come on, let's get you a bed."

Nodding his thanks, Owen allowed himself to be pushed out of the hospital, but knew he'd get no sleep tonight, Cristina's words still swirling in his head.

**A/N: More angst, I know. What can I say, I'm a big fan :P I promise I'll make it better eventually, this was kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to make Cristina's feelings a little more clear.**


	20. Mark and Lexie 5

**A/N: *peeks up from a corner* remember me? *ducks flying rotten food* didn't think so. I don't even have any excuses. It has literally been over a year since I updated. That is THE longest I have ever waited. And this is, unfortunately, not a Cristina/Owen update. I got a couple of reviews on the last chapter recently and when I revisited it, I realized that other couples have 4 instalments currently, while Cristina and Owen have 7. Do you guys care? Any requests for other couples? Just Cristina/Owen? Drop me a line please, as I'm about to give up on Alex/Izzie (I really don't like Izzie anymore). Just let me know.**

**Anyhoo, on with it. Reviews please!**

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

It had been three weeks. Three weeks since Inés arrived at the hospital. Three weeks the lonely, terrified child had been in their care. Twenty-one days since Mark had first laid eyes on the lithe, olive-skinned child with the dark eyes that never left his mind.

How, in the course of just twenty-one days, Mark puzzled, had he gone from it being just him and Lexie, to him, Lexie, and Inés? The little girl was now somewhat of a permanent fixture in their lives. They visited her every morning (she still had panic attacks if they weren't there as she woke up), throughout the day, and Lexie had taken to holding her hand and singing softly to her to lull her to sleep.

That said, Inés was far from recovered. The staff still knew little about her past. They had tried to get a translator to talk to her, but she had barely gotten five words in before Inés had started shaking in violent fear

"_No quiero hablar con usted, No quiero. No quiero,"_she had whimpered, again and again until Mark could stand it no longer and had dismissed the translator, wrapping the still violently shaking child in his arms.

Inés did not take well at all to people who were not Mark or Lexie. If they so much as tried to perform a physical test on her, even something as simple as taking her temperature, Inés would launch into a full-out panic. Kicking, screaming, scratching, these were the bare limits of what she would do if caught off guard. Mark could only guess what she had been through. Sometimes he caught a look in her eyes that was so _haunted_, and he wanted more fiercely than ever to know what the hell had happened to this little girl to make her so guarded.

He supposed he had to be thankful for the small things, though. Inés loved going on walks along the hospital corridors. Mark would sit her down in the wheelchair and zoom her up and down abandoned hallways, listening as the rarely heard laughs spilled from her lips, pride swelling in his chest. She still loved playing with the children in the pediatric oncology ward (_los pequenos, _she called them), and at night, she would curl up to Lexie and read a children's book, Lexie pointing out the pictures, and slowly repeating the English word. Inés would tentatively copy Lexie, and was constantly thrilled with the small piece of candy she received for remembering them.

On this particular Sunday, Mark slipped silently into the hospital, checking his watch. Eight-ten.

_Shit_, he thought. Inés would wake up any minute. He quickened his steps, nearly sloshing his coffee all over the floor in the process. He swore softly again, but managed to make the doors before the elevator closed, albeit among some strange looks. By the time he reached the pediatric ward, it was approaching 8:20. He scooted into the room, just as the lump on the bed was beginning to stir.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!" he trilled, the cheerful candor of his voice surprising even him (since when had he become one of those irritatingly chipper morning shift doctors?).

The girl rubbed her bleary eyes, her face breaking into a smile.

"Señor Mark!" she cried, holding out her arms for her morning hug. "Buenos días!"

Smiling, Mark accepted the hug.

"Hey, butterfly. Where to today?" He wheeled the chair out.

"Where...to?" Inés questioned.

"Don't pretend you don't know what it means," Mark smiled. "We do this every morning."

Inés cracked a small smile and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, knowing full well Mark would crack. He tried feebly to resist, but Inés stuck out her lower lip and widened her eyes for effect.

"Oh, fine," Mark sighed. "_Donde__?_"

Inés grinned. "_Con mis pequeños amigos."_

Mark mock bowed. "Your wish is my command, my queen. Climb aboard the Sloan express."

Moments later, Inés was giggling wildly as they sped down the hall.

"_Mas rápido, Señor Mark! Mas rápido!_"

"Sorry, no faster than this, butterfly. Union rules."

Turning her face forward, Inés spread her hand out by the side of the chair, smiling as she felt the wind gushing through her fingers. Mark loved when he could make her do this, just smile like a normal girl her age. Take her away from the pain she had faced at such a young age.

As they barrelled through the doors of pediatric oncology, Inés waved her hand in the direction of her friend Malachi's room, the same little boy she had met the first time she had come here. Inés was one of little Malachi's most frequent visitors, always dropping in on her little friend. Since that first day, Inés and Malachi liked to go to the playroom and play "barouse" (Malachi's mother had loosely translated that to "barn house"). They would sit on the floor for hours, playing with the animals, Malachi articulating each animal's sound and Inés copying him with a giggle. They had become remarkably close, despite their age difference, and Mark still worried about what were to happen if one of them were not there anymore. How would Inés react if little Malachi was able to go home, and she lost her only friend?

Still giggling, Mark and Inés entered Malachi's room.

The mood sobered in an instant as they took note of the definite change in the room. Instead of posters and toys scattered all over, there was nothing. No colors, no drawings, no little farm animals. His family sat with their backs hunched over his bed, shoulders shaking.

Mark knocked softly on the door, and Malachi's mother turned to look at Mark. A weak smile formed on her young face, and she beckoned them to come in.

"Dr. Sloan."

"Mrs. Brody...what happened?" Mark asked as he wheeled Inés to the edge of the bed, where Malachi lay in an impossibly tiny lump, a tube down his throat, the ventilator hissing every few seconds.

"Cardiac arrest," she answered, swiping angrily at a few tears. "One minute he was fine, and the next...they say the chemo took a lot out of him, that it was too much for his heart to take. He'd lost a lot of weight, and he's so small to begin with...he was without oxygen for almost ten minutes."

The doctor in Mark realized the scenario immediately. Little Malachi's brain had been deprived of oxygen too long. Even if he did wake up...

He placed a hand on Mrs. Brody's shoulder, unsure what to say.

"I'm...so sorry."

She nodded, more tears falling down. "Thanks. Does Inés want to say...I mean, he loved her. Worshipped her, really."

"I think she already is," Mark answered, watching Inés take Malachi's tiny hand and stroke it gently. After a few minutes, she turned to look at him, that haunted look back in her eyes. She motioned towards the door, and Mark took the hint, wheeling her back to her room in silence. Inés had an unreadable look on her face as they returned, but Mark tucked her into bed, and she closed her eyes immediately.

He slipped quietly out the door and almost ran smack into Nurse Lauren, who was on her way to Inés' room with a dark-skinned man in tow.

"Lauren, who's this?" he asked, taking in the man's Hispanic features.

Lauren studied the ground, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. She plucked a packet of papers out of her pocket and handed it to Mark. It was mostly legal babble, but several words stood out for mark.

_Inés Vargas...event of parental rights termination...award full legal custody. _

He looked up at the man, his heart sinking a little lower with every second.

"You're Inés' legal guardian."

The man nodded firmly.

"You've come to take her back."

The man nodded again, muttering an affirmation in Spanish. The next thing he knew, he was pinned up against the wall, Mark's arm at him throat.

"_What did you do to that little girl, you sick bastard?"_ he growled, pressing his fist down hard.

The man's eyes widened in panic, and Mark heard an "oh my god" from Lauren behind him, but he could hardly let that stop him.

"_Sell her to a pedophile ring? Rent her out? Neglect her and abuse her? ANSWER ME!"_

The man, who had previously looked terrified, now just looked furious.

"There nothing you can do! She mine, judge say she mine! I come to take her home to Mexico."

"She's not going anywhere," Mark growled.

Nurse Lauren tugged tentatively on his shirt, for the first time speaking up.

"Mark, he has full legal custody. We have to let him take her. If Inés had filed a complaint, or there had been other charges against Mr. Suarez, we would have some legal rights. But as of right now..." she shrugged helplessly. "We have no choice. We could be charged for withholding her."

Mark sagged, overcome with helplessness. "He can just...take her like that?"

The nurse nodded sadly.

Mark glanced toward the room. "Now?"

"No," the nurse said. "There's still some paperwork to fill out. Actually, Mr. Suarez, if you could come with me. Mark, you too. You're her attending, you need to sign off."

GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY GREYSANATOMY

After the longest twenty minutes of his life, Mark's dragging feet finally made it back to Inés' room. He pushed open the door softly, calling her name and wondering how he was ever going to explain this to her.

However, as soon as he got into the room, Mark stopped short. The bed was empty, the sheets were thrown to the end, and Inés' IV line hung limply. All signs of a patient who had run away...oh God, had she heard? Had she understood?

Mark took off at what was probably the fastest he'd run in his life down the hallway, looking for any place he might find the child. He dashed in to the pediatric oncology ward, and into Malachi's room, surprised to find it empty for once. Sadness overtook him again as he approached the little boy's still form. Something caught his eye, however, and he bent down to the boy's had. In it was a small plastic cow.

_Malachi held up the cow._

"_Moo," he stated._

"_Moo?" Inés intoned._

"_Moo," Malachi confirmed._

"Oh God," Mark whispered, just as Nurse Lauren fell into the room, out of breath.

"Dr. Sloan, where is Inés?" she panted.

Clutching the plastic toy to himself, Mark stormed out of the room. He stopped for a minute in front of Lauren.

"She's gone."


End file.
